No Goodbyes
by VampireNaomi
Summary: Prussia gets the unique chance to attend his own funeral when a misunderstanding leads the world to believe that he's dead. Prumano. Rated for language.
1. Chapter 1

This is a story I wrote for the Hetalia kink meme. The prompt was that Prussia goes to his own funeral after everyone for some reasons thinks he's dead.

The story will include Prumano.

**NO GOODBYES**

**Chapter 1**

Prussia woke up when he felt the bed under him move. He didn't bother opening his eyes or acknowledging it in any way. He knew perfectly well that it was just Romano getting up because there was a world meeting that day and he was supposed to be there.

"Hey. Get up."

Prussia shut his eyes tighter when Romano gave him a poke to the shoulder and turned his back on him. He wasn't going to the meeting. He wasn't needed there. He didn't have to get up just because Romano wanted company in his misery. He could stay in the warm bed and sleep for as long as he wanted.

"Asshole."

He heard Romano climb upstairs and slam the door shut. Maybe he should have at least said good morning. He usually got up together with him and had breakfast with him, even if Romano tended to get up at ungodly hours by Prussia's standards. But this time there was the meeting looming in the horizon, and Prussia really didn't want to go to the kitchen and see everyone else in the house in suits and ready to go off to work.

It wasn't normally a problem. He had had over twenty years now to get used to the fact that he was no longer a nation. He didn't care. He was free to do whatever he wanted, and he didn't get headaches from paperwork or catch a cold when the economy got bad. Heck, he loved it when Romano, Germany and Italy had to waste the whole day in a stuffy meeting room and talk about ridiculous EU regulations while he got to spend the day in his boxers and play video games.

It was just these past weeks that he had been feeling kind of like crap. Everyone was busy dealing with the financial crisis and so buried under work that they didn't have time for much else. And when they did, they were tired and in a bad mood. Romano had thrown such a tantrum when they had last been out eating. Prussia couldn't believe he had got that angry just because he had chatted with a couple of chicks while Romano was in the restroom.

And then there was Germany who barely talked to him these days. He spent all his time staring at his computer screen, making phone calls or reading the financial news with a deepening frown on his face. Even Italy didn't smile as much as he used to.

The worst part was that the others were in this together. They had a common problem that they were trying to solve. Even if it usually developed into arguing and blaming each other, at least they had something important to do.

Prussia, on the other, was feeling more and more useless every day. Maybe it was a sign. Maybe his time was up. The world obviously didn't need him, so maybe he should just accept that and fade away like so many others before him.

That frightening thought got him awake better than a bucket of cold water being poured on him could have. That wasn't what he wanted. He still had plenty of things he wanted to do, and he couldn't just keel over and leave his kid brother behind. Or Romano. The fit the southern half of Italy would throw if he disappeared on him would destroy half of the planet, and Prussia figured he owed it to the world to prevent that from happening.

He forced himself up and staggered up the stairs into the kitchen. It was full chaos, like he had been expecting. Italy was running back and forth between the hall and the kitchen, crying that he couldn't find his other shoe anywhere and that Germany had to help him. Sadly, Germany was busy cleaning his suit with paper towels and scowling like someone had peed in his coffee. Prussia guessed that Italy had surprised him with a hug right when he had been about to drink something.

Romano at least looked like he wasn't going to experience a nervous break-down the next minute. He was sitting at the table, sipping his coffee and finishing a sandwich. Of course, that didn't mean he was in a good mood.

"So, you got up after all, bastard."

"Sure, it's not like I'm letting you off to that meeting before saying good morning first," Prussia said and got himself a mug from the cupboard. He grabbed the coffee pan, but then he noticed that there was barely enough left to cover the bottom of his mug.

"Aww, who drank all the coffee?"

"Maybe there'd be some left if you had got up earlier."

"Hey, I got here just some ten minutes after you. Don't be cranky."

Romano slammed his mug against the table. "Hell, maybe you'd be cranky, too, if you had to work like a slave from dawn to dusk and deal with a selfish asshole whose biggest problem in the world is that there's no coffee left! And fuck, who do you think made that coffee? Your bastard of a brother who's already overworked! You can just get up at any hour you want and do whatever you want, and you still let others do everything for you! Seriously, fuck you!"

Prussia's hand remained frozen at the tap that he had been about to turn so that he could fill the pan. Wow, if Romano took Germany's side in anything, he had to be majorly pissed off. He didn't know how to deal with a tantrum of this level this early, at least not until he had got some caffeine into his system.

"Um, sorry?" he offered.

Romano downed the rest of his coffee without another word and got up to get his suitcase and jacket. Italy's shoe had been found in the laundry pile, and Germany had given up on trying to get his suit to look clean. He ordered the others to get into the car within five minutes because they were already running late and might get stuck in traffic.

"Hey, West, are the dogs –"

"I took them out this morning. Sorry, I have to go."

And with that, Germany grabbed his keys, herded the two halves of Italy into the car and finally drove away. Prussia watched them from the window until they were gone. That had been even more chaotic than usual, he mused and finally started filling the coffee pan.

The sound of running water rang horribly loud in his ears. Just a moment ago, the house had been full of shouting, crying and muttered profanities. Now it was deserted and quiet almost to the point of eerie, like everyone had suddenly died.

Once the coffee was ready, Prussia filled his mug and went to sit on the couch in the living room. Germany hated it when he ate or drank there, but he always did it anyway. He turned on the TV, just in time to catch the second half of the morning news.

There was a report on the development of the financial crisis and how a handful of banks all over Europe were in danger. That was followed by the latest report on a revolution somewhere far away. Finally, a scientist was interviewed about the ecological problems in the Pacific.

Prussia made a face and turned off the TV. None of that had anything to do with him. None of it was interesting.

He nearly jumped when a cold nose suddenly pressed against his leg. Berlitz had come over to lie at his feet, and Prussia gave the dog an absent-minded pat with his toes. He had been thinking that he'd take the dogs out and stock the fridge while Germany was at the meeting, but his brother had already taken care of it. Maybe he didn't trust him enough to even let him do _that._

"This sucks," Prussia muttered and dropped the empty coffee mug on the floor. When had he become this pathetic? It didn't suit him at all. Even if he wasn't a nation anymore, he should have been at the top of the world and dictating how it was run. Then the others would stop looking at him like he was some bum.

He spent the day playing his favourite video games and watching stupid YouTube videos. Both his lunch and his dinner were a pizza that he warmed up in the microwave. He was comfortably seated on the couch with all three dogs when he heard the front door open in the evening.

Prussia turned his head to look, expecting the German-Italian trio to be back, but there was only his brother.

"Where's Romano? Didn't he come back with you?"

Germany sighed and tossed his car keys on the table. "He and Italy had to return home. They have an urgent meeting with their politicians about the current situation."

"Oh." That sucked. Prussia had been hoping he and Romano could have spent some quality time together. He felt like it was forever since they had done anything but bickered. Fighting was normal in their relationship, but Prussia didn't particularly enjoy it if it wasn't followed by making out on the couch and feeding ice cream to each other.

"Haven't I told you not to let the dogs jump on the couch?" Germany asked.

"Aww, come on. They just want to get cuddly."

"But then I have to vacuum it." Germany's eyes moved to the empty bowl on the floor. "Then again, I have to do it anyway because you keep eating snacks on it."

Was it just him, or did Germany sound more tired than usual? Prussia couldn't tell. His brother had been pretty cranky after meetings lately. All things considered, it probably wasn't fun to get up early to take the dogs out, spend the whole day working and then come back home to clean up the mess that awaited there.

"Don't worry. I can do it," he offered.

"Never mind. I have to clean up here anyway."

Prussia shrugged. "Whatever. So, how was the meeting?"

"A total disaster," Germany said and came to sit by his side after shooing the dogs away.

"I figured. You guys aren't getting anywhere with the way you handle politics these days. If I was still in charge, I'd just grab a gun and tell everyone to do what I say or suck it!"

"You know that it would just create even more problems."

"Maybe, but at least it would be fun, haha!"

Germany shot him such a dirty glare that Prussia couldn't remember the last time he had looked at him like that. "Some of us have more important matters to think about than whether something is fun."

"Hey, I know. I was just –"

"And before you say it, war is not awesome. It's horrible, and I'm sick of hearing you suggest it every time there's a problem. War as a solution to anything is an outdated concept that has no place in modern Europe," Germany said, and this time Prussia knew he wasn't imagining the exhausted tone in his voice.

"Dammit, West! I wasn't going to say that. You should get to bed if you're in such a bad mood."

Prussia crossed his arms on his chest and stared at the TV. Yeah, war had no place in Europe. He didn't need to be told that. Frankly, war had stopped being fun once they had got rid of man to man battle and had developed long-distance weapons that could wipe out half an army at one go. When it was about facing an opponent with a sword or struggling to reload your musket before you got shot yourself, now _that _was fun.

But the times for this type of war were long gone. Just like the times for the Kingdom of Prussia. And East Germany. Maybe Germany hadn't meant it like that, but Prussia suddenly felt like he had told him that _he _was outdated and had no place in Europe.

"Maybe I should," Germany said, rubbing his eyes. "I have to meet some people from the banks in the morning."

"I'll finish this movie. I don't have to be anywhere tomorrow."

Just like he didn't have to be anywhere the day after that or the day after that. Damn, what had become of his life? Was there really nothing more productive for him to do than sit on the couch, drink beer and watch TV?

Pathetic. If Frederick was watching over him, he was probably disappointed beyond belief. It was such a depressing thought that Prussia immediately turned off the TV.

He sat in the silence of the dark living room for a good while. This wouldn't do at all, he knew. He couldn't just sit on his ass like a bum when everyone else was working so hard. He'd have to figure out something. Even if they didn't want his help, he could always come up with his own goals and do something great. Like... Well, he didn't know, but he'd figure out something.

Maybe he just needed some inspiration. He could pop in a DVD and watch a documentary about himself or go to Wikipedia to read about his awesome victories. But why stop there? Why not go straight to the places where it had all happened and relive his best memories?

The more he thought about that, the better it sounded. Yeah, that was exactly what he'd do. He'd take some two or three weeks and just travel around, visiting every place that was important to his history. He didn't have a job; he could leave everything behind just fine for a short while.

And maybe that would improve his relationship with the others. They had all been such assholes to each other lately. If he gave them some time to work out their financial shit and came back once they were in a better mood, everything would be great.

Yeah, that was what he'd do.

* * *

The next morning, Prussia got up early. He waited until Germany had left to the meeting and then started making his preparations. He filled a backpack with all the cool things he'd need – a diary for writing down his awesome experiences, some junk food, bird seeds for Gilbird and all the cash he could find on such short notice.

He paused when his eyes fell on his phone. If he took it, Germany and Romano would no doubt try to call him and tell him to come back home. That would ruin both his cool road trip and their chance to concentrate on their work. It wouldn't do. He'd just leave the phone here in plain sight and buy a pre-paid phone on the way for emergencies.

He was already at the front door when he realised that maybe it wasn't such a good idea to just run away without letting the others know what he was doing. They'd be worried that he was in trouble. He had better write them a note or something, just to prove that he could be responsible when he wanted.

He ran back to the basement and grabbed a pen and a paper.

"Hmm, dictate for me, Gilbird," he muttered. He didn't want to waste time explaining everything. "No, wait. I've got it!"

_Hey, West!_

_Sorry to dump you all like this but lately I haven't been feeling that good and I figure I've got to look the truth in the eyes and all that. It's time to be off and awesome. All things considered, it's a surprise it took this long. Sorry I didn't tell you this was happening, but it was kind of sudden and you were so busy. By the time you read this, I'll be long gone. But don't worry about me, I'll be fine. And I'm sure you guys can work everything out with the finance crap and stuff without me if you try hard enough._

_PS Tell Romano that he's the best boyfriend ever and that he shouldn't be mad at me, ok?_

"There, perfect!" he said once he had re-read what he had written. He attached the note to the fridge with a magnet of a black eagle. Now everything would be fine. Nobody would have a reason to be mad at him when he came back.

He made sure Gilbird was safely on top of his head and marched out through the door. He could already feel his strength and awesomeness returning. The next few weeks were going to be so kick-ass! The others would be so surprised to see the new – no, the old and awesome Prussia – when he returned.

* * *

Germany was a little surprised to see that there were no lights or even the TV on when he came home. Prussia was usually watching a movie this time of the evening. Even if he was in the basement or had gone out drinking, he tended to forget everything on. It was a good thing he wasn't in the habit of cooking or the house would have no doubt burnt to the ground years ago.

He rubbed his eyes as he walked to the fridge and took out a beer. At least there was still some left. He had lost count how many times he had come home, exhausted after the day's work, only to discover that Prussia had drunk every bottle. It wasn't a big deal, but little things like that got under his skin when he was tired.

And to be honest, Prussia could have been a little more considerate. He had what no other nation before him had had – he was free of all responsibilities and could do anything he wanted. He could enjoy his immortality in a way that the rest of them would never experience. With all that time on his hands, it would have been nice if he cleaned up his own mess sometimes, took out the trash without asking or got a part-time job and contributed to the expenses.

Germany opened the door to the basement and took a look inside. Nobody there. Prussia must have gone out.

He let out a content sigh and walked to the living room, grateful that he'd get to enjoy the rest of the evening in peace. He'd drink his beer, relax by reading a few pages from a good book and go to bed early. He'd probably have to leave the front door unlocked in case Prussia had forgotten his keys again, but it was a good neighbourhood, so he wasn't worried.

Germany didn't see Prussia the next morning, which was no surprise. He always slept until the afternoon when he had been out. Germany made sure there was something he could heat in the microwave before he grabbed his things and hurried to another meeting.

When he got back, the house was once again dark and cold. One look in the fridge told him that nothing had been touched, not even the beer. That was unusual, so he knocked on the door to the basement.

"Prussia? Are you alright?"

No answer. He pushed the door open and was surprised to find the room empty. It didn't look like anyone had slept in the bed that night. All the clothes on the floor and the scattered game and DVD cases on the shelf were exactly the way from the previous day.

Germany sighed. The least Prussia could have done was tell him if he was going to stay with someone. He could only hope he wasn't imposing on anyone or causing trouble. All of his friends in Europe had their hands full.

He decided to call him, just in case. He dug out his phone and was already back in the kitchen and opening a cupboard to make some coffee when he realised that the Prussian anthem was playing in the house. He followed the tune back to the basement and saw that Prussia's phone was on his bed.

Wonderful. Prussia had disappeared who knew where and hadn't even taken his phone with him.

Next, he decided to try Romano's number. The two of them still didn't get along, but the ice had thawed somewhat when he had got together with Prussia. Germany wasn't sure just how in the world that had happened, but he was glad his brother had someone in his life. There had been times when he had worried that he was lonely.

"What the fuck do you want?" Romano said as he picked up the phone.

"Is Prussia there?"

"No, and good thing he isn't because if he were, I'd kick his ass all the way to Australia. Why the hell hasn't he replied to any of my texts?"

"He hasn't been home since yesterday, and he forgot his phone. I just wanted to know if he came to see you," Germany said.

"Well, he's not here. And I don't want him to be. I don't give a fuck where he is right now. Tell him that he most definitely shouldn't call me when you get a hold of him, got it?" Romano ranted and hung up before Germany could reply.

Next, he tried France. Then Spain. Then Denmark, America, Japan, Finland and finally even Austria and Russia. Nobody had seen Prussia or knew where he could be. It was like he had suddenly dropped off the face of Earth. But that couldn't be. A person like Prussia didn't just disappear. He was always at the centre of attention.

There was no reason to get worried. It had been just two days, and there had been nothing in the news about mayhem being caused anywhere in Germany. Maybe Prussia had human friends he was staying with.

Despite these reassuring thoughts, Germany couldn't quite get rid of the nagging feeling at the pit of his stomach. It was strange not to know where Prussia was. Usually he was always there, even when he wasn't actually wanted. The house was so large and quiet without his music, movies or chatter.

Germany finished making his coffee. As he was about to open the fridge to get some milk, his eyes fell on something that he hadn't noticed before. Amongst all the reminders he had left Prussia about the dogs, the trash, the mailman and other things, there was a note that he most definitely hadn't written.

He removed the magnet that covered most of the text and started reading. When he was finished, he read it again. And then again, just to be sure that he had understood every word.

What was this? What the hell was this? It didn't make any sense, except in one way, and that couldn't be. That was impossible. He was just jumping to conclusions. Because Prussia couldn't possibly write something like this and mean it that way.

The coffee forgotten, he took a seat and placed the note before him on the table. He kept reading it over and over again and trying to analyse it, but no matter how he looked at it, he could think of only one explanation.

It sounded as if Prussia had known he was fading away and had written this note as a goodbye. But that was absurd! He had been just fine the other day. Surely he would have said something if... Germany would have noticed something. He _should_ have noticed.

He couldn't think straight. He needed to talk to someone who had more experience in matters like this and would know what to do.

His hands were shaking as he picked up his phone and chose Austria's number again. It took an agonizingly long while before he answered.

"What is it now? I was just in the middle of Chopin's –"

"How can you tell when a nation dies? What do they leave behind?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end. Then finally, in a careful voice, "Why are you asking?"

"If a nation is dying, can they feel it beforehand?" Maybe... maybe if he compiled a checklist of all normal symptoms and compared it with Prussia's recent behaviour, he could determine whether he had any reason to worry.

"I'd say that would depend on the manner of dying. Some nations have died in battle when their lands have been taken over and annexed by others. Others fade away as a result of contracts or when their people stop identifying with –"

"Could that happen to Prussia?"

"Why are you asking all these questions? Has something happened? Did you find him?"

"No, but he left me a note. It worries me," Germany said. He read it out loud to Austria and waited for his reply.

Austria hummed in thought. "That's a little unusual, even for him."

"I don't know what to think. I know it can't be true, but I just don't know what to do right now." Why was it that his brother always got him into situations like this? Germany did his best to organize his life so that there was a time and place for everything, but Prussia always ruined his careful plans somehow.

"You don't have to do anything. I'll catch a flight to Berlin," Austria said.

"No, you shouldn't. It's not necessary. I –"

"I'm coming," Austria insisted in that tone that always made Germany think that he was treating him like a child. It was times like this that he remembered how much older Austria was than him. He had seen so much more.

"Alright," he agreed. With all that history, surely Austria would know what to do.

"I should be there in a couple of hours. Have you told anyone else?"

"No, not yet."

"Then don't. It won't do to jump to conclusions and cause needless panic. This isn't necessarily as bad as it sounds. For all we know, this is one of his tasteless jokes."

It was these words that Germany clung to for the next three hours. He drove to the airport in a daze, and it was a surprise he didn't cause an accident. Austria was right. It was stupid to worry so soon. On the other hand, it bothered him that Austria had picked the fastest flight and not the cheapest.

"Do you have the note?" Austria asked as soon as he arrived from the luggage claim area.

"Here," Germany said and handed it over.

Austria spent a moment reading the note. Germany tried to guess what he was thinking, but his face remained devoid of any signs of emotion. Finally, he gave the note back to Germany.

"It's his handwriting. He used to send me obscene letters back when that was the fastest means of communication. Nobody else scrawls like this," he said.

"I know he wrote it," Germany said. "But what does it mean?"

"That depends on whether it's a joke or not. If it is, it could possibly mean that Prussia is suffering from loneliness and trying to get attention this way. All things considered, it wouldn't surprise me. It's a textbook case of immature, rebellious behaviour. Children run away from home when they think their parents don't love them enough and –"

"And if it's not a joke?"

"Then he's probably dead."

Germany was sure that his feet would give in under him. No. That couldn't be. Prussia couldn't be gone. Not like this and not without a warning. There had been no signs. He had been just fine. He _was_ just fine. He just didn't know _where_ he was.

"It has been only two days," he said.

Austria nodded. "True," he admitted. "It's perhaps too early to say anything definite yet."

"How can you be so calm? Prussia could be dead, and you act like it's nothing!" True, Prussia and Austria weren't the best of friends, but Germany had always thought that their bitter rivalry had long since turned into some form of mutual respect and a sense of belonging, even if neither of them would ever admit it.

"Don't get me wrong. I'm not happy that he might be dead. In fact, I brought my violin with me. But this is not new to me. There used to be so many Germanic nations like us, and I've seen them all fall," Austria explained.

"So, Prussia is just one in a crowd for you?"

"Of course not," Austria said, his face softening. "But someone needs to keep a clear head. I'm simply volunteering to be that person. And that is why I suggest that I drive."

"I'm fine," Germany said. In fact, he was surprised by the lack of... anything.

Austria picked up his bags and motioned for him to show the way to the car. "That's simply because you haven't yet realised what this means. It doesn't feel concrete without a body. And you're overworked and tired." He paused for a moment. "You've never lost anyone, have you?"

"We don't know if he's dead yet," Germany reminded him. Maybe Austria was wrong and this was all a joke after all. Maybe Prussia would be at home waiting for him. He'd fall on the floor laughing once he saw that he had actually called Austria over because of his trick.

But the house was exactly the way he had left it. The dogs greeted them at the door, and as he turned on the light in the kitchen, he saw that it was as spotless as that morning. If Prussia had been there, there would have been crumbs all over or he would have forgotten to put the milk back in the fridge.

Austria took a seat at the table. "So. When did you last see him?"

"Just the other night. He was watching a movie when I came home."

"And was there anything out of the ordinary?"

"Not that I can think of. He's usually watching TV or playing something when I get back. We talked a little about the meeting, and then I went to bed." Germany made coffee and took out half a cake from the fridge as he spoke. He had bought it at the bakery. Lately, he had been so busy that he just hadn't had the time to bake anything himself.

"Then I really don't –"

"Wait, there was something else."

He put the plate down. His hands suddenly felt weak.

"He said he wouldn't have to be anywhere the following day. I only thought it meant he had no plans, but what if..." Germany sat down and stared at his hands. What if Prussia had meant that it was his last evening alive, that he would be gone the next day?

"Why didn't he say anything to me?" he continued. "If he knew he was dying, why didn't he ask for help? Why did he keep it all to himself?"

"I'm not surprised," Austria said. "He was proud and stubborn. I'm sure that at first he simply ignored all the signs and pretended that everything was fine. When he could no longer do that, he decided to stand alone until the end so that you wouldn't worry or pity him. He probably thought it was for the best."

"That's ridiculous! How could he think that? I'm his brother! I should be there when he needs me!"

But as much as Germany wanted to deny it, Austria's words made sense. That was exactly what Prussia would do if he was dying. He'd be so wrapped up in acting tough and not making him worry that he'd entirely forget that he loved him and that it would break his heart to be excluded that way. Was Prussia really so stupid that he thought this was the right thing to do? When he came home, Germany would definitely –

No, he wouldn't. Because if this was true, Prussia wasn't coming back.

"Hell..." he muttered and rubbed his forehead. What was he supposed to do? His mind was suddenly empty like he had been struck in the head. He hadn't given Prussia much thought lately, but now that he wasn't there, it was as if he had nothing to hold onto.

His eyes fell on the clock on the ceiling.

"It's getting late," he said. "I have a meeting tomorrow. I haven't prepared anything. I have to –"

"You won't attend. They can make it without you for a while."

"But –"

"You're going to bed. You'll only cause more trouble if you wear yourself out. We'll talk more in the morning."

Germany knew he should have objected. The situation in Europe rested on his shoulders. He had to take care of everything. But he realised he was just so tired. He couldn't deal with anything that was happening around him. Without any further arguments, he let Austria shove him into his bedroom.

But once he was in bed, he couldn't fall asleep. He kept thinking back to the past few weeks and analysing every word he had exchanged with Prussia. To his dismay, there weren't that many of them. He had been so busy lately, and Prussia had usually been still in bed when he had got up and gone to work. By the time he had come back, his brother had been out drinking or playing his games in the basement.

Guilt tugged at his heart. Had he been so busy that he had failed to notice that something was wrong with Prussia? Had Prussia felt lonely in his last moments? Had it hurt? Had he regretted not telling anyone?

He hadn't even told Romano, Germany realised. He had been all alone.

Germany had the sudden urge to grab the phone and call Italy. He needed to talk to someone, but at the same time he had no idea what to say. He still couldn't quite understand everything that had happened. It was as if there were so many emotions bottled up inside him, but he just didn't know how to feel them right.

He should sleep. Once he had had his rest, he could take a logical look at the situation and decide what to do. He was in control. He'd just empty his mind and fall asleep right away. That had to work.

Some time around midnight, he heard how Austria started to play the violin in the guestroom.


	2. Chapter 2

****Thank you for the comments, faves and alerts!

**NO GOODBYES**

**Chapter 2**

Romano couldn't remember the last time he had been this pissed off. Everything was wrong. The fucking politicians had completely screwed up the country's economy and were now acting like he and Veneziano were the ones who had to fix it. Bastards. And that stupid Prussia still hadn't called him or sent him a text even though Germany must have found him by now. That asshole!

"Maybe you should go out and have a walk. You're looking really cranky," Veneziano suggested. "The _cacciucco_ won't be ready in a few more moments, so you should get some fresh air."

"I don't want to. The fucking sun is too bright."

"I thought you liked it when it's sunny."

"Hmph!"

"Germany hasn't called me since we left either, you know."

"Who said this is about Prussia? It's not! I don't give a damn about what he's doing right now," Romano said, crossed his hands on his chest and continued to glare at the wall. "And even if it were, that idiot has no excuse. He doesn't have to work like Germany. He could take a minute of his time and call me if he wanted to."

"Have you tried calling him again?"

"No, and I won't!"

By now, Prussia had to know that he had tried to reach him. So why the fuck wasn't he calling already? It had been almost a week! Romano had so little spare time these days, and he had been hoping he could invite Prussia over for the weekend, but apparently the asshole had something else that was so much better that he couldn't even say hello to his own boyfriend. Hell. It was times like this that Romano couldn't understand why he was even together with him.

Veneziano paused his cooking. "Do you hear something?"

"Yeah, it's your phone."

"Oh, I wonder where it's ringing. It sounds kind of quiet."

After a moment, Veneziano found his phone inside the fridge and answered.

"Oh, hello, Germany! I and Romano were just talking about you! How are you?"

Great, Romano thought. This was exactly what he needed. Now he'd have to listen to Veneziano coo at his stupid boyfriend. As if he wasn't already feeling shitty enough.

He got up and was about to go and have that goddamn walk anyway, but then he noticed the surprised and startled look on Veneziano's face. Of course, it could be anything. Veneziano always overreacted to the stupidest things.

"Okay. We'll be there," Veneziano said and hung up. He turned to look at Romano with worried eyes. "Germany said that we have to come over as soon as possible."

"You go. I'm not going anywhere!" Really, if Prussia failed so hard that he had to make his brother invite him over, he could just as well rot in hell.

"But you must! There's something wrong with Prussia!"

"What? What happened?"

"I don't know. Germany didn't want to say it on the phone. But it must be something bad! He sounded like he has been crying! Germany never cries!"

That much was true, Romano supposed and felt dread twist his stomach. Maybe there was a reason Prussia hadn't contacted him. Maybe he couldn't. Maybe... maybe he had been in a car accident or cracked his skull after falling because he always drank too much or –

"I'll book us a flight for tomorrow," Veneziano said.

"No, get the next one. Doesn't matter what it costs. If the bastard is crying over there, you had better get there and make it stop as soon as possible. I don't even want to imagine it. Fucking embarrassing."

Romano took over the cooking while Veneziano went to the computer. His mind wasn't into it, though, and he would have burnt everything if his brother hadn't returned in time.

They had a couple of hours before they had to be at the airport, so there was just enough time to eat. _Cacciucco_ was one of Romano's favourite dishes, especially when Veneziano made it, but now he could hardly swallow a bite.

"Did the bastard really say nothing?" he asked.

"All he said was that he needs to talk to us about Prussia and that we have to go there. That's all."

"It's probably just some crap about the economy," Romano muttered. Yeah, that had to be it. Germany would never invite them both over if it wasn't about work. He had probably just made up that part about Prussia to make sure that Romano would come as well and not leave all the work to Veneziano.

Despite this firm belief, he couldn't relax. He kept glancing at his phone all the way to the airport and was reluctant to turn it off when they had to board the plane. It wasn't that he was worried or anything. He didn't give a damn if something had actually happened to Prussia because when something happened to him, he always deserved it for trying out something stupid. He just... Well, fuck it. He just wanted to hear from him to know what was going on.

"I'm sure it's going to be fine," Veneziano said to him when the plane was taking off.

"I'm not worried!"

He glared out the window for the whole flight. When the plane landed, he was anxious to run outside and get to the bastard's house to see what this was all about, but the other passengers were being painfully slow at getting their hand luggage and collecting their jackets.

"Why the fuck is this taking so long?" he muttered and got a dirty glare from the elderly couple before him.

Germany was waiting for them when they finally made it out. Veneziano immediately ran to him and attached himself to his arm, but Germany responded to his affections with even less enthusiasm than normally. His face looked ashen.

"What the hell is going on here? This had better be good!" Romano snapped.

"Let's go to the car. I'll tell you at the house."

"Why not now? Why the heck is this secrecy necessary?"

"I'll tell you at the house," Germany said again, and Romano got the feeling he had rehearsed that line all night and would break down if he had to deviate from the script he had planned. Normally, he would have loved nothing more than watching Germany's world fall to pieces around him, but something didn't feel right this time.

The drive to Germany's house was nearly silent. Veneziano tried to start a conversation (or useless babbling, as Romano liked to call it), but even he quickly realised that something was wrong. He began to fidget with his fingers and make quiet, worried sounds.

Whenever Romano came over to the brothers' house, Prussia was always there to greet him in some stupid way, like trying to hug him and shove his hand down his pants or, alternatively, giving him some corny present he had bought only hell knew where. This time, however, there was only silence in the house when he entered.

God, he's the worst boyfriend ever, he thought in irritation. Sure, he always complained when Prussia was being an affectionate idiot, but that didn't mean he had the right to start ignoring him like he didn't fucking matter.

"Is the bastard too drunk to climb up the stairs or what?" he asked when Germany and Veneziano joined him inside.

"That's why I asked you here. I'm sorry it was on such a short notice, but I... I didn't know what... I mean..."

Romano turned to look at Veneziano and saw his own confusion mirrored in his brother's eyes. Germany was babbling. Germany. Was. Babbling. Even worse, he raised his hand to run his fingers through his hair, turning it into a mess. He was so unlike Germany at that moment that the worry in Romano's chest turned into something akin to fear.

"Okay, bastard. What the hell is going on here?" he asked.

"It's Prussia," Germany said. "He's dead."

Romano let out a hoarse laugh. "Yeah, right! So, that's what this is all about, huh? God, the idiot's jokes just keep getting worse. How is he blackmailing you into playing along with this? Did he find more of your embarrassing porn or what?"

"I mean it. He's dead," Germany said. "He disappeared without trace a week ago. Nobody has seen him. His phone is here, and he never goes anywhere without it."

"That's totally stupid! It doesn't prove anything!"

Germany dug a hand into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. "I found this on the fridge," he said and handed it over to Romano.

"What the fuck?" Romano asked as he tried reading the note. It was Prussia's abysmal handwriting, alright. And the tone was right as well. It was only the words that failed to register in his mind, no matter how many times he read them. Eventually, everything except one line turned into a blur.

_By the time you read this, I'll be long gone._

Veneziano came to read over his shoulder and let out a pitiful cry as soon as he realised what was written there.

"No, it can't be! Prussia isn't dead! He can't be! He wouldn't just die like that, right?" he wailed and grabbed Romano's arm so tightly it would have hurt if Romano had even noticed. "Come on! Romano! Germany! Tell me he wouldn't die that way!"

"This... this isn't proof!" Romano snarled and crumbled the note into a ball in his hands. He threw it at Germany's feet and turned to glare at him. "Veneziano is dumb as fuck, but he's right this time. Prussia wouldn't die like that. He wouldn't just fucking disappear! He'd go out with a bang."

And he would tell me, he thought. If Prussia was dying, he would tell him. Maybe not right away, but sooner or later his grin would crack and he'd blurt out something stupid that was meant to assure everyone that he was ready to go but just showed how scared he was.

"That's what I thought at first, but Austria said Prussia must have hidden it for our sake. He must have thought it would be better if we didn't worry about him or pity him. Austria said that a nation as old as Prussia –"

"I don't give a fuck what Austria said! I never liked him anyway! Prussia is not dead!"

Romano turned to Veneziano for support, but one look at his face told him that it was a lost battle. Tears were already rolling down his cheeks. The fool was lapping up every word Germany let out of his stupid mouth.

"He's not dead," he repeated. He couldn't be. That asshole had no right to fade away without telling them – without telling him! Just who the hell did he think he was?

"He has been gone for a week. And Austria announced officially that he would be composing a new piece and wanted absolute privacy. Prussia never showed up to bother him. He didn't even make a prank call," Germany said.

"He could just be hiding. He wouldn't fall for cheap tricks like that!"

"Why would he be hiding?"

"Well, because... He could... Goddammit, do you want him to be dead? Why aren't you searching for him? He's your brother, dammit!"

"I tried everything, but there's nothing more I can do. He's gone. He's really gone."

Romano couldn't bear to listen to Germany's defeated tone. The bastard wasn't supposed to have that lost look on his face. He should have been strong and organized and taking care of everything. He had no right to act like he had no idea what to do. Because if Germany didn't know what to do, what hope was there?

"God-godammit! Fuck you!"

He turned around and marched through the house to the kitchen and then into the utility room where he wrenched open the door to the basement. He ran down the stairs into Prussia's room and stopped to stand in the middle of it.

Everything was a mess. The bed was hastily made. There was an empty pizza box in the corner and a couple of beer cans on the desk. CDs and DVDs stood piled up on the shelf because Prussia was too lazy to put them back properly.

The thought that he could be gone was absurd. The room looked like he hadn't been away longer than five minutes. He wasn't dead. He couldn't be. He had promised!

That asshole! He – he – The next thing he knew, he had grabbed several of the DVD cases and thrown them at the wall. They opened, and the discs scattered all over the floor. If Prussia had been there, he would have screamed in horror at what Romano was doing to his expensive collection.

The thought brought him no satisfaction, but he was just so fucking angry. Prussia had promised that he'd never die! He had said he was invincible! He was such a bastard! He deserved to have all of his movies ruined!

Romano grabbed the office chair that was standing before the desk and hurled it to the opposite side of the room where it fell down. Next, he tore down all the posters of Prussia's favourite metal bands and relished the sound of ripping paper.

Finally there was nothing else left on the walls except the Prussian flag. Romano glared at it as he struggled to catch his breath, hands itching to grab it and pull it down. He'd stomp on it and spit on it and –

Except that he couldn't. That was the one thing he couldn't bring himself to touch.

"Fuck you!" he snarled and collapsed on the bed. He grabbed the pillow and buried his face into it. It smelled of Prussia because the idiot was so lazy about changing the sheets, but for once Romano didn't mind the odour of beer and hell knew what else.

The goddamn bastard had broken his promise. They had been lying on this bed not long after getting together, and Romano had told him that if he ever even thought about fading away, he would kick him in the balls, cut them off and make him eat them. Prussia had laughed as he had pulled him close and said that there was nothing in the world that could kill him. Because he was awesome. Because he'd be the last one standing.

Except that he wouldn't be. Time had finally caught up with him. He was gone, just like that. Like someone had blown out a candle without a warning.

What had been the last thing Romano had said to him? He couldn't remember, but it had probably been something along the lines of "Fuck you!" God, if he had only known that morning would be the last time he saw him, he would have said something else. Well, no. He would have still told him to go fuck himself, but after that he would have made it clear that he wasn't allowed to die. He would have skipped the stupid meeting. He would have said that if Prussia knew what was good for him, he'd let him feed him breakfast in bed and hold him until all thoughts of dying had left his mind.

His eyes burned, and he pressed his face tighter against the pillow to stop the tears from flowing. If he cried, it was a sign that he was buying this shit. And he didn't want to. Goddamit, he didn't want this! It wasn't fair!

If he had known it wound come to this, he would have never let himself fall for that idiot. He should have guessed nothing good would come out of it. Prussia was nothing but trouble. He was insensitive and rude and messy and irritating. Romano hated it when he tried to start making out in public or joked about his tomatoes. But at the same time, he loved how Prussia always jumped through hoops to cheer him up when he was upset. He loved those rare moments when he showed him that beneath all that bravado, he had his vulnerable spots.

Prussia was good at hiding his feelings when he wanted to, but his act was never perfect. Romano had learned to look for signs that he was lying. Why hadn't he seen anything this time? Had he been so wrapped up in his work that he hadn't noticed his boyfriend was dying on him? God, he sucked. He was exactly as incompetent and useless as everyone said.

He lifted his face from the pillow and glared at the messy room.

"Bastard! I'll never forgive you! I hope you're rotting in hell because I... I hate you!" He threw the pillow away in anger and fell back on the bed. He didn't even try to hold back his sobs anymore. "I hate you..."

* * *

Romano didn't know how much time passed. He remained down in the basement, lying on Prussia's bed and crying into the sheets until his throat felt raw. The tears stopped eventually, and his anger faded away and left him hollow. He realised he probably should have got up, but he saw no point in it. What would it have accomplished?

He didn't turn to look when he heard the door open and how someone started coming down the stairs.

"Go away, idiot," he muttered. If Veneziano hugged him and started babbling about how it would all get better and how he had felt just like this when the Holy Roman Empire had died, he'd flip his shit. And then he'd start crying again.

There was the sound of someone clearing their throat.

"Actually, it's me."

Romano sat up and turned to stare at Germany. For a moment, he had completely forgotten the bastard even existed, but now all of his anger rushed back.

"You," he growled. "What the fuck do you think you're doing here?"

"I... came to see if you're alright."

"Get the hell out! I don't want to see you! You have no right to be here! It's... it's your fucking fault that he died!"

As he stared at Germany, all of it was suddenly crystal clear in his mind. Of course. It was Germany's fault. Just look at the bastard. All tall and strong and powerful, a nation in his prime. It was so fucking wrong.

"I –"

"Shut up! Don't even try to deny it! First he had to give up his kingdom for your empire, then he was dissolved because of your goddamn war, and when he got another chance, you ruined it! You took his country and added it to your own! It's your fault he had to live the past twenty years as a shadow of himself. You left him nothing! You wouldn't share anything with him, you selfish bastard!"

"That's what the people wanted," Germany said, a desperate edge in his voice. "I didn't want it, but I had no choice. They wanted just one Germany. Prussia knew that. He said that –"

"He was too goddamn proud and stupid to let anyone know that his kid brother was killing him. Hell, he probably didn't want to make you feel guilty. You have no fucking idea how sentimental he was about you. West this, West that. He just wouldn't shut up about you. And then you go and kill him and have the guts to pretend that it's not your fault!"

The tears were back, but Romano was too angry to care or wipe them away. He glared at Germany through them, daring him to argue. If he said even one word about how he hadn't known or how nobody could blame him, he'd jump at the bastard's throat. Hell, maybe he'd do that anyway.

But Germany said nothing. He walked to the chair that was lying on the floor and straightened it. Romano watched him as he took a seat and wondered what he was up to. Why couldn't he just leave? There was nothing that would have made him happier than never having to see Germany's face again.

Well, except for one thing, but that was no longer possible.

"You're right," Germany said quietly. "I should have seen it coming. I should have done something. I shouldn't have just assumed that he was always going to be there, but I didn't realise he could die."

"You're a fucking idiot. What do you think happened to all those nations who don't exist anymore?"

"I didn't realise... I've never seen it."

It was then that Romano remembered that Germany was so much younger than most nations in Europe. Many Germanic nations had died when Prussia had unified their countries under his rule, but he had probably not talked about that with his brother.

Romano wondered if Prussia had known back then that one day, the same would happen to him and that his little brother would replace him. It was a never-ending cycle for nations, but Prussia had had such a huge ego that he just might have been blind to the truth.

"You're so stupid. Don't you know your own history? Where the hell do you think Saxony and the others went, huh? You ignorant, stupid, goddamn asshole! Prussia was too proud to ask you for scraps, so you should have made sure he had something to his name!"

For a moment, Germany looked at him with pained eyes, but then he lowered his gaze to the floor. Whatever strength was left in his posture disappeared.

Romano went through his long list of insults to pick out the best ones. As soon as Germany opened his mouth again and tried to give him some bullshit about how it wasn't his fault or he hadn't know what was going on, he'd put them to use. It felt like the anger in his chest would scorch him to death, but it was such a wonderful distraction from the fact that he hadn't noticed anything either.

But Germany remained quiet. He covered his eyes with his hand and let out a shuddering sigh. And then – Oh, God, was the bastard crying? Fuck no, he had no right to!

"Don't you dare. Do you think I'm going to feel sorry for you?" Romano asked. He wouldn't. Never. He wanted to hate someone, and since he couldn't yell at Prussia, he had nobody else left but Germany. And now the bastard had the guts to try to ruin that.

He got up on his feet. "Wait, don't answer. I'm out of here!" He ran up the stairs and soon found himself in the kitchen where Veneziano was busy with the stove.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm making pasta."

"Why?"

"I always make pasta when I'm here. We all like it, so I don't have to cook four different things. But... but I guess it would be three now..."

"Don't cry into the pasta!"

"I'm sorry!" Veneziano hurried to wipe at his face with his sleeves and used a piece of paper towel to blow his nose. "How is Germany? He was so upset!"

"I don't give a fuck. It's all his fault."

"Oh, no, don't say that! He –"

"Don't start! I don't want to hear it!" And with that, Romano stormed out of the kitchen. He couldn't deal with his brother right now. That stupid Veneziano was just making excuses for the muscled potato and... and, goddammit, couldn't he see that it was all his fault? Without Germany, Prussia would till be there.

He marched to the front door and wrenched it open. He didn't care that he didn't have his jacket or even his shoes; he just had to get out of the house. He nearly ran down the pavement, not even paying attention to where he was going until he stopped to catch his breath some time later.

He leaned against his knees and stared at the red Penny Markt on the other side of the road. He and Prussia had been there often and brought back as much beer and food as they could carry. Prussia had always wanted to buy those disgusting peanut curls that Romano couldn't stand. And then when they were watching some movie on the couch, he'd always try to feed him some, even though he knew he hated them.

Now he wouldn't have to even smell them ever again. Or kiss Prussia after he had just been eating them. Good God, that had been disgusting. But it was over now. Never again.

Romano wiped angrily at his eyes and turned away from the supermarket. He eventually found his way to the small park where he and Prussia had sometimes taken the dogs when Germany had been too busy to do it. It was autumn and already getting dark, so there weren't many people about. The bench on which the two of them had liked to sit was free. After a moment of hesitation, Romano sat down on it.

He lifted his feet on the bench and took his toes into his hands. Dammit, his socks were soaked. He could barely feel his toes anymore. He could imagine the way Prussia would be laughing at him right now, and the thought of it was enough to make an angry flush rise his to cheeks. But then he realised that after he had had his fun, Prussia would have run off to buy him hot chocolate at the little stand on the other side of the park.

His nose was running again, but it was because of the cold. And his eyes were prickling because the wind had blown dirt into them. It had nothing to do with the fact that the bastard was gone.

Fuck, who was he kidding? He missed him already. He wanted him back so much that it hurt. That stupid bastard had made him happy and feel like he wasn't a total waste of space compared to his brother. Romano had loved him, and now he wished that he had said that a little more often. He should have insulted him less and not got so angry about every little thing that didn't go his way.

Maybe that was why Prussia hadn't told him anything. Maybe he had thought it was easier to die alone than deal with Romano's tantrums. If that was the case, Romano didn't know if he'd ever be able to forgive himself.

But at least he hadn't told Germany either. Romano didn't like to be lumped together with him, but knowing that this had been an equal surprise to him made him feel a little less guilty. Dammit, Germany had lived with Prussia! He should have noticed something. He was his –

His frown deepened as he realised something that he had refused to acknowledge all this time. Germany had lost his brother. No matter how much he hated him and wanted to blame this on him, it didn't change the fact that he had to be hurting just as much as he was.

Romano shifted on the bench in discomfort. He didn't want to feel any sympathy for Germany. He had to direct his anger and frustration at someone, and he was by far the best candidate. At the same time, he couldn't help but think how he'd feel if Veneziano died. Or Spain who was practically a big brother to him.

"Fuck this shit. Seriously," he muttered. His toes would fall off if he stayed out there any longer, so he decided to return to the house.

Veneziano was still in the kitchen when he arrived. He wasn't crying anymore, but his face was marred by an unhappy frown, and he wasn't humming the way he always was when he was cooking. He looked up from the boiling sauce when Romano entered.

"Oh, you came back."

"Where the hell did you think I'd stay? Anyway, where's the bastard?"

"He's still in the basement. Please, Romano. Don't go and yell at him. He's so sad and I tried to make him feel better, but then the first batch of pasta burned and I had to come back and start over and I don't know how to help him, so I'm just making more pasta because I think eating always helps when you're sad!"

"I can yell at him as much as I want to!" Romano snapped and marched to the door to the basement.

Germany was still sitting where he had left him, but Romano immediately noticed that he had been trying to clean up the mess. It was probably some damn defence mechanism of his. He looked up when he heard Romano arrive, but he didn't say anything.

"I forgot my... thing," Romano said. He glanced around to find something that would work, but there was nothing suitable among the remaining items on the floor. He decided to change his excuse. "Or actually, there's no way I'm staying up there and watching Veneziano ruin that tomato sauce. I have no idea where his fucking mind is, but it's not on cooking."

Germany stared at him like he was speaking a foreign language. Romano didn't feel like elaborating, so he sat down on the bed and shoved his feet under the covers. He wanted to take off his wet socks but not when Germany was there. It was totally stupid, but the mere idea made him feel naked. Prussia had sometimes liked to play with his toes because he thought they were cute.

"Well, aren't you going to say anything, fucker?" he asked.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Anything. Surprise me."

Germany glanced towards the stairs. Romano figured he was making sure his escape route was clear in case he needed it. Or maybe he was hoping Veneziano would come and stop this awkward conversation before it even started. It didn't look like he'd have it in him to make the first move, so Romano supposed he'd have to make the sacrifice.

"Do you think it happened here?"

The startled look on Germany's face revealed that he immediately knew what Romano was getting at. He clenched his hands into fists and couldn't meet his eyes.

"I don't know. Maybe. He liked this room. Or maybe he went to Sanssouci to be close to Frederick."

"Yeah."

It had always been a sore spot to Romano how much Prussia was still attached to that one king of his. It made him jealous, which was totally stupid because only an idiot felt threatened by a dead guy. But now he figured that if the thought of getting to be with him again had brought Prussia any comfort during his last moments, it was okay.

"There... there had better be some fucking cornflowers at the funeral," he said.

"The funeral?"

"Yeah, you're arranging one, right? Or at you just going to go on like nothing happened?"

Germany shook his head slowly. "No, of course there'll be one. I just haven't thought about it yet. It feels so final."

"Of course it's final. That's the fucking point! And don't you dare look at me like that like you're going to cry again! Prussia would kick your ass if he was here!" Romano snarled, but he couldn't quite stop his own voice from breaking.

Germany let out a small laugh that might have just as well been a stifled sob. "I need to know something," he said.

"Yeah, what?"

"Can he come back? To visit? Like your grandfather, I mean."

Romano hadn't even thought of that. For a brief moment, he was filled with hope, but then he realised how pointless it was. He didn't want Prussia back like that. It might have made him feel better for the short while he was there, but in the end it would just make him more miserable to have to lose him over and over again. He was sure the same went for Germany.

"I wouldn't get my hopes up. It took centuries before Grandpa first showed up, and he drops by completely randomly. It can be decades between his visits, and they're always short anyway," he said.

"Just one time would be enough. So that I could apologize and say goodbye."

Goddamit, did Germany have to say that? It was exactly what Romano wanted. Just one chance to yell at him for not telling them anything and then pull him close one last time, saying that he was sorry for having been so blind.

There was a knock at the door and Veneziano poked his head in.

"Are you two okay? What are you doing?"

"We're fine," Romano grumbled.

"Do you want to come and eat? The pasta is ready."

Romano wasn't at all hungry, but he supposed eating would be a good distraction for a while. He got up on his feet and climbed up the stairs. Germany soon followed him without a word, and they all got seated at the table.

They ate in silence. Romano's eyes kept turning towards the empty spot by his side. He saw Germany was having equal trouble concentrating on his dinner.

"Do you think I should have put out a plate for Prussia? Will he be angry if we leave him out so soon?" Veneziano asked in worry.

"It's fine," Germany said.

"I just don't want him to think that we're going to forget about him."

"I'm sure he won't think that."

"Oh, good."

Veneziano let out a relieved sigh and smiled at Germany. Romano felt like someone was twisting a knife in his stomach. It was such a small gesture, but it said so much. Those two had each other, but he was alone now. Every time Germany came over to see Veneziano or when Veneziano left him alone to go to Germany, he'd be reminded of what he had once had.

"I'm not hungry," he said and pushed his plate away.

Veneziano looked at him with a frown. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine! I'm just not hungry! This pasta is terrible anyway."

Romano didn't want to return to the basement, so he stormed upstairs to the small guestroom. He'd probably stay there for the night. There was no way he'd sleep in the basement and in Prussia's bed when the bastard wasn't there to share it with him.

He threw himself on the bed. This room at least was free of memories. It looked and smelled neutral. Maybe he could have some peace here. He closed his eyes and tried to calm down and forget about all the shit that had been poured on him that day, but despite his exhaustion, it just didn't work. His thoughts kept running in circles, and he soon felt that he was going to explode from the hurt.

And the worst part was that he didn't think it would stop any time soon.


	3. Chapter 3

This chapter includes some over and done with Fritz/Prussia.

I don't know what happened, but it looks like this chapter deleted itself somehow. I'm posting it again together with the last one.

**NO GOODBYES**

**Chapter 3**

Prussia crossed his hands behind his head as he climbed up the stairs leading to the Sanssouci palace. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this alive and full of energy. He had travelled all around Germany, dropped by in Poland and spent a few great days in Königsberg (he'd never agree to call it Kaliningrad, and that Russia could go and shove his pipe up his ass). He'd been to the places where he had experienced his greatest victories. He had visited the sights of his worst defeats to remind himself that no matter how bad things had got, he had always staggered back up to his feet.

He had saved the best for the last. The palace of his beloved king where he had spent so many wonderful summers. This was where most of his fondest memories were. It was the perfect ending to his three-week road trip.

"Hi there, Old Man," he said and gave a lazy salute as he approached the grave in the forecourt.

There were some tourists about, it being a clear, beautiful autumn day, but he didn't mind them or their stares as he came to stand before the grave with his hands on his hips.

"Heh, they've brought you flowers again. I should probably get jealous," he said. In truth, it tickled him pink that there were still people who respected his king enough to do something like that, even if it was a small gesture.

He proceeded to tell Frederick everything about the past weeks and all the places he had seen. He told him about the farm where he had been attacked by a bull when he had crossed a field while searching for the spot where they had once set camp during the Seven Years' War. He described the castle in Kwidzyn and the nights he had spent in the wild because he had run out of money.

"I could still do it. No problem!" he said. In reality, it had been colder and wetter and more uncomfortable than in his memories. Maybe he was a little bit rusty, but Frederick didn't need to know that.

"Anyway, I feel great now. For a moment there I was starting to think that my time was running out, but now that I remember just how awesome I really am, I realise that there's no way this world could survive without me. So I'll just keep going. Just watch, I'll be doing so many great things, and you can be so proud of me!"

He grinned to himself and momentarily turned to look at the garden that spread before the palace. It was such a gorgeous view. He could have spent hours watching it, but he figured he had better hurry up and go home to tell Germany what a great time he had had.

"Oh, and one thing. Remember that Romano guy I told you about? I'm probably going to bring him over one of these days to say hello. Don't be offended when he says that talking to dead people is dumb. He's always like that, but once you get through to him, he's real nice," he said, turning his attention back to the grave.

He paused and imagined how red Romano's face would get when was forced to stand before the grave while Prussia talked to Frederick. He'd probably mutter profanities under his breath, but Prussia doubted he'd get too loud. He knew how much his king meant to him.

"I think he's a little jealous," he said. The thought made him frown. He hadn't been in love with many people in his life. There had been Brandenburg, then Frederick, and for a long time he had been sure Hungary would be the last one he'd ever have feelings for. Romano had sort of come out of nowhere.

"But he shouldn't be. I mean, I'm with him now. And you aren't jealous either, right?"

In his later years, Frederick had begun to feel increasingly guilty about the distress his nearing death was putting Prussia through. He had apologized repeatedly and said he had been selfish to let things develop so far between them when it was inevitable that Prussia would be left behind. That it would be better if Prussia found someone of his kind and forgot all about him.

Prussia hadn't agreed then and he didn't agree now. He was an optimist, and he figured that it was better to have something nice for a while than never have it at all. And now he was having a lot of nice things with Romano. He didn't want to compare his time with him to his time with Frederick – the two of them were so different, but they both made him happy.

"But I guess I should be going. I bet the others have missed me and will be so happy when I come back home. See you around!" He waved as he returned to the stairs and walked through the garden to the exit.

He took a train from Potsdam to Berlin and then the bus from the main station. He had to walk a little bit to reach the house, but he didn't mind. The weather was great, and he entertained himself with the look on Germany's face when he'd see him.

"Hey, there, Mrs. Müller!" he called out to the lady next door who was taking a look at her apple trees.

She let out a small cry when she noticed him and lost her balance, falling off the step ladder and stumbling to the ground.

"Whoa, are you okay?" Prussia asked and jumped over the fence that separated her garden from theirs. He helped her back on her feet and tried to brush some of the dirt off her back. "Sorry, I didn't know you'd be that startled."

"You... but... I'm sorry, I thought you were... were dead."

"What?"

Prussia stared at the woman's face and wondered if she had gone senile during his absence. She was in her eighties, but so far it had done nothing to slow her down. She took care of her house and garden all on her own, and she was almost as scary as Russia when she came to complain that his music was too loud at night.

"Mr. Beilschmidt told me his brother died, so I thought it was you. I didn't realise he had another one," she said.

"West –I mean, Ludwig said what?"

Mrs. Müller looked at him with a confused frown on her face. "Mr. Beilschmidt said his brother had died in an accident. I was so sure he meant you, and since I didn't see you anywhere..."

"Uh, right," Prussia said, mind devoid of any sensible thoughts. What the fuck? Why would Germany go around telling the neighbour something like that? Prussia had often wanted to trick the iron lady somehow, but he didn't think Germany would consider this at all funny.

"I'm sorry. It must be hard for you as well."

"Uh, yeah, yeah. Poor... Hans-Ulrich. He died so tragically. So, I guess I had better get inside and comfort Ludwig or something."

Mrs. Müller gave him a funny look. "But he's at the funeral. And shouldn't you be there as well?"

"Oh, right! The funeral! I was just on my way there, actually." Prussia turned around and was about to climb back to their garden, but then he realised that he didn't even know where to go. "Where was the funeral again?"

Mrs. Müller gave him the name of a church he recognised, and he hurried back to the bus stop. He tried to come up with a good explanation for the old lady's babbling, but his usually rich imagination wasn't offering him many options. By the time he arrived at the church some half an hour later, he wasn't at all wiser.

He walked to the stairs and stopped to listen to the music that was coming from inside. Depressing as heck, he mused. Someone was playing the organ. It sounded like a funeral alright.

His hand lingered at the door, but he wasn't sure he wanted to open it. This had to be some kind of stupid misunderstanding. There were probably complete strangers in there, and he didn't really want to interrupt their proceedings and draw all the attention to himself. That would be awkward, even by his standards.

He decided to wait outside instead. The church was surrounded by a small park, and he found an empty bench where he could watch the door. Old trees hid him from sight, so he could spy all he wanted without anyone noticing him when they finally exited the building.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door was pushed open and black-clad mourners started pouring out. Prussia could only stare. He recognised every one of them. There was America, England, Sweden, Denmark, Lithuania... It was like the whole world had been gathered inside that one, small church.

Then he spotted Germany and Italy, and his mind went blank. He was too far away to make out the details on their faces or hear what they were saying, but their body language told enough. Germany was walking as if in a dream, and Italy was holding his arm. But for once, it didn't look like he was clinging onto him for support. It was as if he was offering comfort to Germany.

"The fuck?" Prussia muttered as he watched the line of nations walk through the park. He understood nothing. For once in his life, he didn't have any idea what to say. He couldn't even move. He sat on his bench and observed how the nations moved to a memorial hall on the other side of the street.

Prussia was about to stand up and run over to the others to ask just what the hell was going on, but that was when he spotted three more figures leaving the church. It was Romano, France and Spain. If possible, Romano looked even more dazed than Germany, prompting Spain to push him to keep going.

"The fuck is wrong with you? Stop poking me, dammit! I can walk!"

Prussia couldn't hear what Spain said to that, but he could see him lean closer. Romano, however, didn't want his comfort and shoved him away. He started running after the other nations. Spain tried to follow, but France caught his arm and stopped him, shaking his head.

Maybe those two could tell him just what was going on. He thought about calling out and waving to them, but then he noticed that they had started walking towards him. They hadn't noticed him yet, and for some reason Prussia suddenly didn't want them to. They looked so sad and serious that he was almost afraid of talking to them and finding out what had led to this.

He dashed behind one of the old trees that was thick enough to hide him from view just as his friends sat down on the bench where he had been watching the church door.

"I don't know what to do with him," Spain said.

"You should give him some time. It has been only a few weeks, and I think it's only now that most of us are realising it's true."

"I know," Spain said with a sigh. "But I'm so worried about him. I used to be able to cheer him up when he was upset, but it feels so hopeless now. He just sits on the porch and won't even try my best tomatoes."

"Maybe he just needs to be alone and go through his emotions. It's not easy to lose someone you love," France said.

"You know what Romano is like. He says he wants to be left alone, but he doesn't mean it. He wants someone to hold him, but he just doesn't know how to deal with that. I think Prussia was starting to have a good influence on him, but now I feel he has reverted back to how he used to be."

"That's no surprise. It was so sudden. I mean..." France drifted off here, and when Prussia risked a peek from behind the tree, he could see him lean his head back and stare at the sky. "None of us had any idea he was dying."

Fuck, they were talking about him, weren't they? For a moment, Prussia was sure his feet would give in under him. It was just like the neighbour had said. They all thought he was dead. But he wasn't, right? He was feeling great, and he was sure he would have noticed if he had died. There was no way the universe would kill him and then not let him at least say hello to Frederick. So he had to be alive. The others were just mistaken.

"We should have noticed," Spain said forlornly. "I should have invited him to my house more often, and we should have gone out drinking more. Maybe he still wouldn't have told us anything, but at least he wouldn't have had to be all alone."

"The fool probably thought we cared more about our work and was too damn proud to bother us," France muttered.

Spain hummed in agreement.

Prussia pressed a hand at his chest and tried to calm down his heart. This was... This was amazing! It was the biggest misunderstanding the others could have possibly come up with! Once he appeared from behind this tree and told them what idiots they were being, they'd all have the best laugh in history!

Already chuckling to himself as he imagined the looks on France and Spain's faces, he was about to take a step to the left and reveal himself. But then France spoke again, and he froze just in time.

"You know, if I could talk to him just one more time, I'd open that old bottle of Chateau Mouton-Rothschild Jeroboam he was always bugging me about."

Wait, what? That bottle was one of France's greatest treasures. It was so precious to him that Prussia hadn't yet had the guts to trick him into believing he had broken it by accident. He was always asking him to open it so that they could taste it before it went bad, but he was half-joking every time. He knew that France would never do it.

"Yeah," Spain agreed. "And I'd apologize for all those thoughtless things I said over the years. And for all those small things, like that time I locked him out of our hotel room for the whole night in Vegas."

"I should have told him more often how sorry I was about the dissolution. Maybe... maybe if I hadn't been so blind, there'd still be something called Prussia on the map."

The smile on Prussia's face faded somewhat as he considered these words. He didn't dare risk another look from behind the tree, but he could hear France sniffle and how Spain murmured something comforting to him.

The decent part of him knew that he should have already hurried to his friends and told them that he was fine and that they shouldn't cry, but he had rarely been motivated by his decent side. The much larger part of him, the one that loved attention, praise and glory, realised what a unique chance this was.

Nobody would have anything snide to say about him today. Nobody would sigh and roll their eyes at him. Nobody would say that he was irritating, loud, rude or past his prime. Today there would be nothing but words of what an awesome, fantastic and amazing person he had been. Everyone would say great things about him and how much they missed him.

Surely it wasn't a crime if he wanted to hear all that before he told them to stop mourning and throw a party because the awesome was back? And even if it was, who cared? This was his day.

After a while, Spain suggested that they should join the others in the memorial hall so that they wouldn't miss Austria's eulogy. Whatever lingering feelings of guilt were lurking in Prussia's heart instantly died at these words. There was no way he was missing an eulogy by Austria. All these years, he had been dying to have that bespectacled smarty-pants admit that he was awesome, and now it would happen!

Once he was sure that his friends were gone, he left his hiding place behind the tree and started advancing towards the memorial hall so that he could sneak in. This was going to be an amazing day.

* * *

Prussia didn't see anyone as he poked his head in and took a look around the entrance hall. He hadn't been there before, but if it was anything like the other memorial halls he'd seen, it shouldn't be a difficult place to navigate. Over there should be the main room where everyone was seated at their table and watching some poor soul sing or talk or play something on the small stage.

Despite his curiosity, he couldn't very well waltz in there. At the very least he'd need a disguise that came with a wig. His hair was such a damned good giveaway. A moustache would have been great as well, and his thoughts momentarily turned towards Romano.

He had missed Romano during the three weeks he had been away. More than once, he had been tempted to call him and just say hello, especially on those cold nights in the woods. His self-control had always won in the end. He'd been alone for so long that surely he could go a couple of weeks without his boyfriend. Besides, the longer the separation, the sweeter the reunion, he figured.

He spotted a stand with some religious literature and grabbed a Protestant newspaper. When he opened it, it was more than big enough for covering his face. He'd just go and stand by the entrance and pretend to be reading it when he in reality was getting the kick of his life from observing the others.

With a chuckle, he poked holes into the newspaper and raised his cover just as two nations emerged from the ladies' room on the other side of the hall. Their voices revealed them to be Hungary and Liechtenstein. Both wore nice, black dresses. Hungary in particular looked gorgeous – though not as gorgeous as she was in breastplate.

Prussia had to force his eyes elsewhere. Checking out chicks at his own funeral when he was taken wasn't the classiest thing to do. Romano would headbutt him in stomach if he saw him doing that without him.

"Is Mr. Austria going to speak soon?" Liechtenstein asked.

"In some fifteen minutes. Denmark wanted to play something first."

"I didn't know he could play."

"Me neither."

The two walked right past Prussia and were about to enter the memorial hall, but then Liechtenstein suddenly caught Hungary's arm.

"Your hairpin is falling off," she said. "Let me fix it."

"Oh, thanks."

They were silent as Liechtenstein's nimble fingers worked in Hungary's hair. Prussia was quickly growing bored of them, but that was when Liechtenstein suddenly spoke.

"I feel so sorry for Mr. Germany. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to my brother."

"Germany can make it. He's tough. He was doing just fine on his own when Prussia was East Germany."

"But that was different. He was still alive then. They could see each other sometimes and talk. And he's still so young."

Prussia made a face behind his newspaper. With her looks, it was easy to forget that Liechtenstein was much older than his brother.

"Then he'll just have to learn to deal with it. Prussia wasn't irreplaceable," Hungary said with an edge in her voice.

Liechtenstein removed her fingers from Hungary's hair and retreated a step."Um, did I say something wrong?"

Hungary let out a frustrated sigh and straightened her back. "No, don't worry. I'm just angry. That jerk had a lot of nerve to die like that without telling anyone. I had plans for this week, and if I had known beforehand that he was going to kick the bucket, it would have been much easier to reschedule everything!"

"I'm sure he didn't do it on purpose," Liechtenstein said.

Yeah, Prussia thought. And what the heck was Hungary doing anyway, acting like she didn't give a damn? Where were the tears and the mournful cries about how she regretted never giving him a chance? She should have already confessed that she had actually loved him all along, not Austria! Just this one time, she should have been nice to him.

"You didn't know him like I did. We grew up together. He was always causing trouble. Not a single day would pass without him doing something reckless. I'm sure this stunt was just his last attempt at playing a prank on everyone around him."

Hungary's hands were clutching her dress, and an irritated frown had taken over her flushed face. Prussia was suddenly glad that she didn't know he was there because he was sure he would have got something hard and unpleasant thrown at his face if she had. At the same time, he felt a sick temptation to let her know that he had heard her. He wanted to see if she'd at least have the decency to be ashamed of herself.

"But you were friends, weren't you?" Liechtenstein asked.

"Not in a while. Not after all the trouble he caused Austria," Hungary said with a huff and let go of her dress, crossing her arms on her chest and refusing to meet Liechtenstein's eyes.

Prussia suddenly wanted to get away from the two nations. He hadn't come here to hear this. Sure, maybe he went a little too far with Hungary sometimes, but he had always figured she could take it. He had never seen the fact that she usually beat him up afterwards as a sign that she disliked him. Quite the opposite. Fighting was a sign of friendship, right? What could be more fun than having a violent skirmish with someone you liked and trusted?

He took a couple of steps back so that he could hide behind a corner – so that he could plan his next move and certainly not because Hungary's words might have hurt him just a little bit, but that was when he bumped into someone who was just exiting the men's room.

"The fuck is wrong with you? Watch where you're going, asshole!"

His Romano! He at least was certain to miss him.

Prussia quickly pressed his back against the wall and peered at Romano through the holes in the newspaper. Damn, he looked good in a black suit. Though he probably would have looked even better if his face hadn't been all red, cheeks puffed and eyes swollen from crying.

"Romano, wait!"

And then Italy burst out of the men's room as well, his arms full of white paper towels that he tried to give to his brother.

"Here, I brought you these! You should blow your nose before we get back to the others and listen to Austria's eulogy!"

"I don't want them! And I'm not going back! I'm going home!"

"But you can't! Austria has prepared a really nice speech, and you must listen to it! He's going to be insulted otherwise."

"I don't give a fuck! I don't want to listen to his crap!" Romano gave his brother a shove, sending most of the towels flying to the ground and turned around. However, he didn't make it very far before Italy grabbed his arm and forced him to stop.

"Don't go! You'll regret it forever if you miss this! You should stay and listen when everyone talks about Prussia and not be all alone! He'd want you to be here."

"I don't want to listen to everyone talk about how he's gone! The only thing I want is to have him back! You can't give me that, so fuck off!"

"Aww, Romano..." Italy moved to wrap his arms around his brother, and for once Romano didn't put up a fight. He buried his face against Italy's chest and let out a shivering breath as his tears started flowing again.

Okay, fuck his plans, Prussia decided with a stab of guilt. No way was he just watching this. This... wasn't funny. He'd go over there and tell Romano that he didn't have to cry. That he was right here. He'd hold him instead of Italy, and later he'd buy him a huge ice cream to make him smile.

Maybe he wouldn't even have to miss Austria's eulogy. He could wait until later before telling the others so that he and Romano could have a laugh about the prissy aristocrat and his fancy speeches together.

But his good intentions were stopped. Just as he was about to throw the newspaper away and declare that awesome could never die, Hungary called out to the two Italies from the other side of the entrance hall.

"There you are! Why are you still here? It's about to start!" she said as she and Liechtenstein approached them.

"Romano isn't feeling very good," Italy said.

"Oh, right. That's okay," Hungary said, her face softening. "But you should still try to make it. Austria spent such a long time writing that speech. I'm sure it's really good."

"You should have written a nice speech, too, Romano! I'm sure Prussia would have loved that," Italy pointed out.

Romano detached himself from his brother and glared at him as he wiped his eyes. "Yeah, right. Like I'd get up there and let everyone see me like this and make fun of me."

"I'm sure nobody would make fun of you," Liechtenstein said.

Romano didn't look convinced, but instead of arguing, he simply puffed his cheeks and turned to look away. If the situation hadn't been so serious, Prussia would have chuckled. Female beauty was Romano's eternal weakness. He could never bring himself to be rude to anyone with a pretty face.

He was reluctant to reveal himself now that Hungary had entered the scene. After what she had just said about him, there was no doubt that she'd smack him over the head as soon as he showed his face. He'd rather not get a concussion before he had talked to Romano, so he figured he had better wait a bit longer. Now that Romano wasn't bawling anymore, he'd probably be okay for another while.

"Okay, fine," Romano said. "I'll come and listen to the stupid speech, but only because you keep bugging me about it."

"Great, let's go. I'll sit with you," Italy said.

"Whatever. And by the way, who the hell is that asshole who's just standing there and reading that piece of crap? I thought this was supposed to be a private occasion!"

"Maybe he's security. I think he's been watching us all this time, so that would make sense," Italy offered helpfully as they walked past him.

"Fucking Germans," Romano muttered.

Prussia let out a sigh of relief when he was once again alone in the entrance hall. He risked a peek into the room where the nations were gathered, figuring that everyone would be so busy looking at the stage that they wouldn't notice him.

There was a table standing right before the stage, so full of flowers that it was nearly covered in them. There was also a framed picture. From this distance, he couldn't make out the photo, but he supposed it had to be of him. He hoped they had a picked a good one – not that there were any bad photos of him, but some were just more awesome than others.

Germany and Japan were seated at the table closest to the stage. Germany was sitting straight like someone had replaced his spine with an iron bar, but that was nothing new. All things considered, he was probably dealing well. Prussia had taught him a lot over the years, and one of the most important lessons had been not to let his emotions distract him from his duty. Granted, he sometimes had the feeling Germany had taken that one a little too close to heart.

He watched how Italy and Romano went to take seats at Germany's table. Words were exchanged, but it was impossible for him to hear them. Italy took Germany's hand into his.

Then Austria walked to the stage. It was only then that Prussia noticed that there was a huge piano there as well. He wondered if the loser was planning to play something. If yes, he hoped it would be half-decent and something not Austrian. As far as he was concerned, EAV was the only good thing Austria had ever contributed to the world of music.

The murmur of the nations quieted down as everyone turned their attention to Austria. He stood before them, all proper and prim and wearing so many frills that Prussia had no idea how he could live with himself.

Okay, this had better be good. So far, everything had sucked.

"Now that we've had the pleasure of enjoying Denmark's fascinating performance, I believe it's time for me to say a few words about our deceased friend. I know there are many others among us who would be just as qualified for the task, so I will see it as my honour," Austria said. He pointed towards the piano behind him. "I have also taken the liberty of composing a short piece for the occasion and would like to play it after I'm finished."

Prussia had to press his hand at his mouth to stop a chortle from escaping. Austria had composed something for him? That was a riot! It was no doubt something really sissy and stupid. He couldn't wait to hear it so that he could rub it to his face later. But that was just the dessert. First there'd be the main course, the eulogy.

Germany's distress and Romano's tears forgotten, Prussia leaned against the wall until he was comfortable and waited for Austria to get started.

"To be honest, at first I was a little surprised when Germany asked me to speak here today. I and Prussia faced each other in war several times and were rarely on particularly good terms. It's no secret that we didn't get along even in the present day." Austria paused to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "In fact, all of my recent encounters with him left me positively irritated. He had the unfortunate habit of breaking into my house, raiding the kitchen and bothering me when I was working on my music."

Well, this wasn't a very good start, Prussia thought. Then again, what could he expect from that fool who couldn't recognise that he was the personification of awesomeness even when he threw himself in plain sight on his piano? Oh, and he never got much out of raiding the kitchen anyway because that ass was too cheap to buy anything good.

"I'm sure I'm not the only one who has such stories to tell about him. If we all started sharing our regrettable experiences with him, we would be here for a long time. But that's not why we're here today. We're here because we've lost a person who, even with his flaws, was important to all of us."

Now he was getting somewhere. Now he'd just have to read out loud the long list of Prussia's virtues and declare that everyone's life would be meaningless without him. It couldn't get any better than that.

"As I said, Prussia had many flaws, but he also accomplished much in his lifetime. Though it's easy to forget, he started out as an order of knights and left his mark on Europe. Most of us didn't know him back then, but a few of us do remember those times." At these words, he nodded towards Hungary, Russia (goddammit, what the fuck was he doing there?), Poland and the Baltic nations.

Oh, yeah, those had been good times, Prussia thought wistfully. Just running around with his knights, beating up and converting pagans. He couldn't have asked for a better childhood. And Hungary had been such great company back then.

He eyes turned towards the table where she was sitting with Liechtenstein and Switzerland. There was an empty seat by her side, no doubt Austria's. Prussia was a little surprised he and Switzerland were sitting at the same table, but maybe they had decided to put their differences aside for this one day. For him. Heh, that was kind of touching.

The irritation he had seen on Hungary's face was now gone. She had her eyes glued to Austria, but Prussia got the feeling that she wasn't really seeing him. Maybe her thoughts had travelled to the past as well, to a time when she had worn armour and carried a sword, not a dress and a frying pan.

Shit, he thought. Maybe they should catch up some time. For real. Not that routine of him climbing in through the window to smear fingerpaint on Austria's piano and Hungary coming to kick his ass. They shared so much history, and not all of it was centuries old. He liked to think that having her stuck on the same side of the Iron Curtain was one reason he hadn't gone insane after he had realised that his system wasn't working like he wanted.

He had always thought she knew that, but maybe he should tell her some time, just in case.

He realised that his musings had made him tune out Austria for a moment. He forced the memories – of the knights, of dragging along a sword taller than him but also of sharing smuggled goods from west and of quoting forbidden literature to each other – from his mind and returned to the present.

"But it's not because of his military, his politics or the educational model that we're here to pay our respects," Austria was saying. "We're all here because Prussia was much more than a nation. To some of us he was a friend."

Prussia searched the crowd until he found the table where France and Spain were sitting with Belgium and Netherlands. France was biting into his handkerchief, a ridiculous habit that Prussia never failed to make fun of. He felt the corners of his mouth tugging upwards as he watched the dramatic display.

"If we only look at the surface, it might be tempting to deem Prussia a person with little regard for the feelings of others. He didn't sugarcoat what he said and was fond of immature, even hurtful jokes. However, under all that, he was always loyal to his friends. It would have been easy to blame the hardships he faced on those around him, but he understood and accepted how the world works. He –"

Austria was cut off when there was a sudden cry from France who collapsed against the table and buried his face into his arms. It was another example of the theatrics that were usual for him when he was upset, but the smile on Prussia's face slowly died. He hadn't known France would feel that guilty about old decisions that hadn't even been entirely his fault. Hadn't he already told him that he didn't blame him for them, at least not anymore?

Spain wrapped an arm around France's shoulders and leaned close to whisper something into his ear. Slowly, everyone turned their attention back to Austria, but Prussia kept watching his friends for a while longer. He felt his stomach twist. On second thought, maybe he should have approached them outside when he had had the chance.

Watching his friends cry brought him none of the satisfaction he had been expecting. He had thought he'd be happy to see how much they cared about him, but he was starting to realise he didn't want it to be like this. It should have been something casually said while they were dozing off at Spain's porch. Hell, they didn't even need to say that. It was enough that they found time for an ex-nation in their busy schedules.

And how was he paying them back? By standing here and letting them suffer for his amusement. It wasn't often that Prussia was willing to admit that maybe he was being a bit of a shithead, but he had the feeling that this situation counted as one of those.

It wasn't just France and Spain who were distressed. Everyone looked forlorn. Hungary lifted a hand to brush some of her hair behind her ear, but Prussia saw she was only doing it to get an excuse to wipe at the corner of her eye.

"– was a brother."

Prussia turned his attention back to Austria, realising that he had again missed a chunk of his words.

"I don't think anyone here can deny that Prussia was a good brother. He wasn't always the ideal one, but he cared about Germany. He gave him the foundation on which modern Germany was built, but even more than that, he was a pillar of personal support and guidance."

Prussia kept waiting for Austria to make some sort of end remark to diminish his words. There was no way that prissy ass actually approved of anything he had done with Germany. He was always complaining about his ways and pointing out it was a miracle Germany had turned out as so reliable, hard-working and honest despite his influence – certainly not because of it!

But no such remark came, and a feeling he couldn't quite identify began welling up in his chest.

"There were times when the political situation of the world tore Prussia and Germany apart, but that didn't stop them from –"

Prussia didn't hear the rest of what Austria said. He thought of a time when he hadn't been able to say anything important to Germany on the phone because the system he had built was now watching him. Before their relationship had somewhat thawed after the first few decades, he had sometimes been certain that they'd always remain separated.

There had been a time when he had really, truly hated Germany and seen him as an enemy. He had blamed him for what had happened to him, had blamed him for the war and for everything he had lost. The country he had built from the ruins of the war had been nothing but a huge mistake, a vengeful attempt to get back at his brother.

Prussia didn't like to think back to everything he had done wrong back then or the countless drunken nights he had spent singing the praise of socialism with Russia before he had realised what an idiot he was being. He had been such an ass, not just to his brother but to his allies and even his own people.

And yet Germany had been waiting for him with open arms when the Wall had come down. He hadn't asked any questions, hadn't blamed him for the decades of bad blood between them.

The night before the official reunification, he had sat with him and asked him if he was going to disappear with his country. Prussia could still remember what he had said to that, word for word.

"Most of the world wants to see my country go. Your people want it gone. Even mine do, and I guess they have the best reasons. Don't you think it would be best for everyone if I went along with it?"

"No," Germany had said with emotion uncharacteristic for him and caught his arm. "I don't want you to go. Not after I just got you back."

"Heh, then it's good I'm not planning to go anywhere. I've still got a lot of stuff I want to buy, and you promised I can bring my things over and live with you. Like I'm letting you go back on your word."

Prussia nearly jumped when he heard the first notes of the piano piece Austria had started playing. He hadn't noticed him finish his eulogy, but now he wished he knew what he had said.

He turned his eyes to Germany. It was like he hadn't moved an inch. He was still sitting straight and staring before him like he wasn't registering anything that was happening around him. Maybe he wasn't dealing so well after all. Dammit. His kid brother was a mess, and it was all his fault. He'd... he'd have to fix that.

Prussia knew he wasn't easy to live with. He was the cause of at least half of Germany's headaches. His brother had worked so hard for the past twenty years to bring the eastern half of the country on the same level as his. Prussia hadn't helped as much as he should have, but he had never felt very guilty about it.

Now he couldn't help but do. He couldn't remember the last time he had been anything but a burden to Germany. If he wasn't causing trouble, he was living in his brother's house, eating his food and spending his money. His awesome presence probably wasn't quite enough to make it a fair trade. Any sane person would have been happy to get rid of such a freeloader.

But Germany missed him, he thought. Despite everything, his brother didn't want him to go.

The notes of Austria's music travelled down his back and forced him to shiver. It was a quiet, melancholy song, and it made Prussia's chest feel tight. He didn't want to listen to crap like this. He wasn't dead! There was no need for all this stupid mourning.

He should walk right into that room. He should tell everyone to stop crying. Why had he even wanted to see that in the first place? He hated crying! What he wanted was to see them all happy because he was back.

But he didn't dare take that step. There were so many nations inside. Prussia had never been one to suffer from stage fright, but he knew that if he showed his face in there, utter chaos would follow. He had already had one reunion with Germany in the middle of a disorganized crowd. Now that his brother really thought he was dead, he should try to be a little more subtle.

He retreated from the door and found a good hiding place behind a plastic plant. Maybe around half an hour later, nations started pouring out of the memorial hall, getting their coats and leaving the building.

"That was beautiful," Hungary said to Austria as they stepped through the door, her arm wrapped around his.

Soon, there weren't many nations left. Germany was thanking them for coming and tried to smile at their final condolences. Prussia was glad to see Italy, Romano and Japan remain close by his side so that he didn't have to do it alone.

Russia walked over to them and placed a hand on Germany's shoulder, a melancholy smile on his face.

"After your reunification, I told Prussia he could have Kaliningrad Oblast if he wanted. But he said no. I think he must have cared very much about you since he chose to die with you and not live with me."

"Uh..."

"Fuck off, asshole," Romano growled from behind Germany's back where he had stepped to hide from the much larger nation.

Russia sighed and turned to leave. "It's such a shame he had to go. I had a fun time with him."

Germany folded his coat over his arm and walked to look back into the now empty memorial hall.

"Germany, are you coming?" Italy asked. Everyone else was dressed and ready to go.

"I... think I'd like to stay for a moment. Alone, please."

"Okay," Italy agreed. "We'll be waiting for you in the car. Can I have the keys?"

Prussia figured Germany really had to be out of it since he gave his car keys to Italy without another word. After that, the three nations left. Prussia felt a pang in his heart as he watched Romano go, but he reminded himself that he'd talk to him as soon as he was done with Germany. There were things he had to say to his brother, and he would rather do it now and alone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Important note: **This is an incomplete version of the last chapter. The real version has a sex scene in it, but I took it out because I felt it was too explicit to fall under this site's rules. If you want to read the version with smut, you can find it by going to my profile and clicking the link that will take you to my Hetalia fanfiction masterlist on Livejournal. I recommend doing that because the scene also includes plenty of dialogue and wraps up some of the emotional threads of the story.

**NO GOODBYES**

**Chapter 4**

Prussia watched Germany walk back into the memorial hall and stop to stand before the flowers and the photo of him. He just stood there, not doing anything, but the tightness of his shoulders told Prussia that he was close to his breaking point. He had no doubt done his best to keep himself together when the others had been there, but now that he was alone, there was little holding him back.

He didn't want to see that. This was going to be awkward enough as it was.

He followed him into the room and stopped to stand a safe distance behind him. His first thought was that he should say something witty to lighten up the mood, like "The reports of my death are greatly exaggerated" or "My, West, you look awful! Did someone die?", but he knew it would have been cruel. And to be honest, he wasn't really feeling like joking.

"Hey... Hey, West."

Germany whirled around, eyes wide. He stared at him, mouth slightly open, and didn't move.

"Prussia," he finally muttered. "Is that you?"

"Do you know anyone else who is this handsome?"

Germany took a step towards him, then another, but he wasn't looking where he was going and bumped into a chair. He stumbled, and Prussia rushed forward to catch him just as he would have lost his balance.

"Hey, easy there. You're too old to stumble over your own feet anymore," he said.

Germany wrapped his fingers around Prussia's arms to tightly that it almost hurt, but Prussia didn't complain. His brother was still staring at him with that startled look in his eyes. He was beginning to think that he was in too much shock to do anything, but then Germany pulled him close and buried his face against his neck.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry."

"About what?" Prussia asked. That wasn't really what he'd been expecting.

But Germany didn't answer. He let out a shuddering breath and wrapped his arms tighter around him until Prussia was sure he'd suffocate or at least crack a few ribs. Damn, it should have been illegal for kid brothers to ever grow that big and strong, he thought as he began to struggle.

"Come on, you can let go now. I'm not going anywhere," he said.

Germany straightened himself, but he refused to let go of his arms, like he was afraid he'd just disappear into thin air if he did.

Crap, Prussia thought when he saw his brother's face. He was crying after all. And he had been so sure they could avoid that if he showed himself in time.

"Hey, don't cry, West. It sucks see you like that."

"I'm sorry. It's all my fault. If I had known, I'd have – "

"What are you talking about?"

Germany wouldn't meet his eyes. "It's my fault you had to die. If I had done something differently... I can't apologize enough, and I don't expect you to ever forgive me, but..." He shook his head and closed his eyes. "Romano said I shouldn't expect you to visit, and I was sure you'd never come. Because why would you ever want to –"

"West," Prussia cut him off and wrenched his arms free from his hold. "Stop babbling. I'm not dead."

"What?"

"Really, I'm not dead! I have no idea why you all think I am, but I'm not."

Germany stared at him with such startled eyes that Prussia wasn't sure if he'd heard a word of what he had said. Damn, his brother wasn't usually this slow.

"You aren't dead?" Germany asked.

"I already told you I'm not! Do you really think I of all people could die? That's an insult to my awesomeness, so you had better believe me or I'm going to drink all the beer in the fridge!"

"You do that anyway."

"Yeah, well, from now on I'm waiting until you come home before I finish the last bottle so that you have to watch!"

"But... but how are you not dead? How could... Where have you _been_ all this time?" Germany asked. He grabbed the closest chair and sat on it, like he wasn't sure if his legs were going to keep on carrying his weight.

Prussia in turn jumped to sit on one of the tables.

"I went on an awesome road trip." The blank expression on Germany's face told him that a little more elaboration was in order, so he swiftly continued, "I was kind of feeling like crap, so I figured I needed some time alone to sort things out. I went to all sorts of places where I used to hang out back when I had a kingdom."

"You went away for three weeks without telling anyone."

"Hey, I left a note! Didn't you read it?"

Without a word, Germany slipped his fingers into his pocket and pulled out a crumbled piece of paper that had been taped together after someone had torn it apart. He handed it over to Prussia.

"Oh, so you did read it? So what's the problem?" he asked once he realised what he was holding.

"Do you even know what you wrote there? Do you have any idea what it sounds like?"

Prussia looked at Germany's serious face and then back at the note. He shrugged. "Well, I guess it's a little vague..."

"Vague? It sounds like you were dying! We all thought it was a goodbye note!"

"What?" Prussia sputtered. "That's totally stupid! It's... it's... Why would you think that?" He glanced at the note in his hand once more. Well, he supposed that one part was a bit misleading. And maybe that one as well, but seriously, how could they have jumped to that conclusion?

"You disappeared for three weeks. You didn't even take your phone with you," Germany said.

"That was so that you wouldn't call me and nag! And so that you could finish your work and stop being so busy all the time!"

Germany let out a groan and covered his eyes with his hand. He remained motionless for so long that Prussia was starting to grow restless.

"You aren't mad, right? You won't put me under house arrest or anything like that?"

"I thought I killed you."

Prussia squirmed on the table. He didn't like how tired and defeated Germany sounded. Everything was peachy, so why was he being like that? Surely even someone as stoic as he could have mustered up a small smile by now?

"Come on," he said. "Don't worry about that. It was –"

"For three weeks I was sure that I had killed my brother with my mere existence. That you had been dying a slow death since the reunification but hadn't trusted me enough to tell me." Germany turned to look at him, and Prussia was momentarily startled by the haunted look in his eyes. "Do you have any idea what that feels like?"

Prussia briefly thought of Hannover and many others who had vanished after their countries had joined his, but he pushed such memories away. That was the way of the world, and Germany needed to understand that as well.

"If it was meant to go like that, then we'd just have to suck it up. Ask any of your friends and I bet they used to know someone who's now gone. It's just the way it goes. It wouldn't be your fault."

"But –"

"No buts. You can't control the way the world develops. It sucks, but you just have to deal with whatever your people decide to do. If it means that I have to kick the bucket one day, you can bet that it's going to be a death you'll all remember!" Prussia said, flashing Germany a confident grin.

"Don't say that. Don't ever say that."

"I didn't say I'm going anywhere! It's obvious that you guys wouldn't be able to tie your own shoelaces without me. It's my duty to stick around and inspire you with my awesomeness!"

Germany leaned back on the chair and let out a faint chuckle. The smile Prussia had been hoping to see still wasn't there, but he was sure he'd get his way sooner or later. Even such a stick in the mud as his brother couldn't resist his charms for too long.

"How did you know to come here?" Germany asked.

"The crazy witch next door told me you were here. I scared her witless when I showed up home."

"I hope you weren't rude to her."

"Yeah, she complains enough as it is."

"You should try to mind your manners a little more. But never mind." Germany paused to think. "How come you didn't run into anyone on your way in?"

"Oh, that's easy. I got here right after you left the church, so you were all seated and didn't see me."

He saw Germany's eye twitch. "You were here for the memorial?"

"Yeah."

"And you didn't say anything?"

"No, but I have good reasons! First, I didn't want to cause a scene. And... I kind of wanted to hear Austria's eulogy."

"But why? Didn't you see how upset we all were? How could you just stand there and watch? Didn't you see France and Spain? Or Romano? Or me?"

"Yeah, I saw you guys," Prussia said, swinging his legs over the edge of the table in an attempt to ignore his guilt. "I just wanted to find out if you really missed me."

"Of course we missed you! How could you even for a moment think we didn't?"

Prussia laughed. "Yeah, pretty stupid, huh? So let's just forget about it."

But Germany was staring at him with that irritatingly serious look in his eyes that was always there when he insisted that he emerge from the basement and take out the trash or help him sort their laundry. In other words, he wasn't giving up before he'd had his way.

"I've been talking with Romano," Germany said, and Prussia couldn't have been more surprised even if he had suddenly announced that he was no longer sorting his files in the alphabetical order.

"What? Is that some kind of code for him screaming his head off at you or what?" he asked. There was no way Romano would ever have a normal conversation with Germany. No way. In order for that to happen, something really drastic would have to take place. Like, someone would have to –

Oh, right.

"We thought that you had been dying for a long time and that we just hadn't noticed anything. It made us realise that we should have acted differently. We shouldn't have taken you for granted. We should have included you more in our lives as nations," Germany said.

"You... what?" Prussia couldn't decide which was harder to believe, that Germany and Romano had agreed on anything or that his no-nonsense brother who breathed rules and regulations would ever admit that a former nation had any place in the world's business.

"Why do you look so surprised? Isn't this what you were always telling us?"

"Yeah, but... But I'm not a nation. I mean, I'm still the best, but I have no king or government or military or..." He wasn't sure how to finish. He had nothing. It always stung when he recalled just how much he had once had and how he had lost it. Or when he saw the others busy with their work and felt like they didn't have the time to remember he was still there. That was why he had decided to spy on the funeral, to see if they'd notice and miss him even now.

"I don't care! Maybe you aren't dying now, but I'm not taking the chance that it could happen. I'm putting you in charge of the matters of Brandenburg whether you want it or not!"

Prussia could only stare at his brother, several things going on in his mind at once. But one was above all others.

"Wait... Does that mean I have to work? Like, get up early in the morning kind of work?"

"Yes! You'll get up at five every single day, including Sundays, if that's what it takes to keep you alive!"

Before Prussia could decide how he felt about that or the sudden militaristic, nearly frightening determination Germany was showing, a new voice reached his ears.

"Germany! We got tired of waiting so – "

The brothers turned to look at the entrance at Italy's voice, seeing him and Japan standing there with bewildered looks on their faces. Even the normally withdrawn Japan appeared startled.

"Prussia!" Italy called out. "You're back! I'm so happy!"

And the next thing he knew, Italy had jumped at him, sending them both tumbling to the floor. He groaned as Italy landed on his chest, seemingly not caring at all that he was crushing him. He figured that was easy to ignore since he had provided him with a soft landing.

Italy sat up on top of him and looked down at him with the widest smile Prussia had ever seen on his face.

"I thought I'd never see you again! Japan! Did you see that Prussia is back?"

"Yes, I noticed," Japan replied with a smile. "And I'm glad as well."

"How long have you been here? Did you hear the song Austria composed for you? Wasn't it beautiful? You should visit him and thank him later today! And what do you think of the flowers? Romano picked them."

"I'll answer when you get off me so that I can breathe," Prussia said.

"Oh, sorry." Italy hurried to stand up. "I didn't think it mattered since you're dead."

"I'm not dead, Ita-cakes."

"Huh?" Italy turned to look at Germany. "Germany! Prussia is not dead!"

"I know."

And then Italy was on top of him again, nuzzling his cheek against his chest. "That's even better! Now nobody has to cry anymore. And Romano can smile again!"

Prussia laughed and pushed the enthusiastic nation off him, sitting up. "Where is he anyway?"

"He didn't want to come back here, so he decided to stay in the car," Japan replied. "But if you don't mind me asking, how come you aren't dead?"

Prussia gave Japan a hearty pat to the shoulder and ignored the way his smile wavered at the physical contact. "I'll tell you all about it later today, but now I've got something else to do. I have to break Romano the news that he's not single after all."

"Of course," Japan agreed.

"Prussia," Germany called out after him when he was already at the door. "Be nice to him. He was very upset."

"Don't worry. I know how to deal with him."

And with that, Prussia stepped out of the memorial hall and braced himself for an encounter that he suspected would match up to some of his fiercest battles.

* * *

It wasn't difficult to spot Germany's car. The parking lot was nearly empty when Prussia arrived, and he would have recognised that shining, spotless silver beauty anywhere.

There weren't many things the brothers agreed on, but one such issue was that cars were fantastic. If Germany was really going to make him do something with Brandenburg, maybe he'd get to buy his own. It was an exciting thought, but Prussia pushed it to the back of his mind. He wasn't sure what he thought of Germany's idea, if it could ever work or if his brother would even go through with it once he got over his emotional high and began to think straight again.

Besides, he had more important matters to consider, he mused as he got close enough to make out Romano sitting on the backseat. The southern half of Italy had to be pretty occupied with his thoughts and glaring at his hands because he didn't look up when Prussia approached and stopped to stand right beside the car.

He knocked on the window. At once, Romano turned to glare at him, but the murderous look in his eyes disappeared right away and was replaced by shock. Anticipating what was to come, Prussia took a step back just in time to avoid being hit when the car door was shoved open so hard that it was a surprise it didn't fly off its hinges.

Romano staggered out of the car. He looked terrible. Prussia had no idea what he had been doing in there after Italy and Japan had left, but judging by his messy hair, loose tie and red eyes, it was probably something akin to throwing a private temper tantrum.

"Hey there," Prussia said and attempted an encouraging smile.

"You're... You... What..."

"Yeah, I'm back. And before you ask, no, I'm not like your grandpa or anything. I'm not dead. I'm just as alive as when you last saw me. This whole me dying thing was just one, big misunderstanding," Prussia said. Hopefully this would all go faster if he just summed up the main points.

"What?"

"Yeah, can you imagine? I just went on a road trip to search for myself, and in the meantime you guys decided that I've kicked the bucket."

"What?" The volume of Romano's voice rose close to screaming. "You're alive? This... this was all just a mistake because you... you..."

"Decided to go on a journey of self-discovery? Yup, that's right! But I'm back now. I'm totally alive!"

"Then I hope this fucking hurts!"

Bam!

The next thing Prussia knew was that he was staggering backwards from the punch Romano had aimed straight at his jaw. The sky did a somersault before his eyes, and suddenly he was lying on his back on the pavement.

"Ow," he groaned as he tried to sit up. Damn, he had known that Romano could pack a punch, but he hadn't been prepared for that. It was a wonder he hadn't dislocated his jaw.

"You bastard!" Romano snarled, and in the next instant, he was sitting on top of him, just like his brother earlier. He grabbed the front of Prussia's shirt and lifted him up so that he had to look him in the eyes.

"Hey, calm d–"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Romano drew back his hand, and Prussia winced, expecting another punch. "How the hell could you just leave like that and not tell me? What kind of idiot are you? Do you have any idea what you made us all go through?"

"Uh, I'm sorry."

"No, you're not! You're never sorry! You don't give a fuck that I thought you were dead and had to pick flowers for your funeral and go through your stupid photo album with your asshole brother and listen to that godddamn Austria talk about you and wake up every fucking morning without you! Goddammit! I just... damn... "

The hand holding him up began to tremble and let go. Romano collapsed against his chest and buried his face into his shirt as a sob shook his body.

"Bastard, bastard, bastard!"

Prussia wasn't sure what to do about the crying man on top of him, but after a while he opted for reaching out and pulling him closer against him. Romano didn't fight back, but he kept yelling muffled profanities against his chest as much as his sobbing allowed him to.

"Yeah, I'm a total shithead," Prussia muttered in what he hoped was a soothing tone.

"You're the biggest piece of shit I've ever met!"

Prussia ran his fingers through Romano's hair, carefully avoiding the infamous curl. "Love you, too," he muttered with a chuckle.

Romano sniffled. "Fuck you."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Prussia looked at the sky above him and listened to how Romano slowly calmed down in his arms. Maybe he'd now dare suggest that he be allowed to get up.

"The pavement is getting a little uncomfortable. Let's get into the car and continue snuggling there."

"We aren't snuggling! And we aren't moving. I'm staying right here, and if it hurts, good! You deserve it!"

"Well, if you want to stay on top of me, I'm not going –"

"Shut the fuck up. And now I expect a damn good explanation for all this bullshit."

"What if I don't have one?"

"You don't want to find out."

"Okay, I actually do have a really good one. So, I noticed that you guys were kind of really busy, and it made me feel like shit for a while. That's why I decided to go and look at all the places where I've been awesome – and wow, there were a lot of them. That's why it took so long to come back."

Romano lifted his head to glare at him. "And why didn't you take your phone?"

"I figured that then we'd spend all the time just calling each other and having phone sex or something, and then it would have been totally pointless that I was gone. Because I was kind of hoping you'd get all your work done when I wasn't there to distract you with my awesomeness and that we could do more stuff together after that."

"Oh, no, no, no. Don't even try to make it sound like you were being considerate! You're a selfish asshole! You promised you'd never disappear from my life, and then you pull a stupid stunt like that!"

Prussia decided it wouldn't be a good idea to mention that he had written a note. Romano's reaction to it would no doubt be far less pleasant than Germany's.

"Hey, I'm sorry. But it's all okay now, right? I'm back."

Romano said nothing. Worry began to gnaw on Prussia's insides. Surely he wasn't so angry that he'd do something stupid, like dump him or something? He was Prussia! Nobody dumped him! Especially not Romano because then he wouldn't really know what to do next.

"Hey?" he asked. "Say something."

"I'm running out of insults."

"You could go for round two with all of them. You can call me anything you want. I can take it. Keep them coming."

"No."

"No?"

"I'm thinking of new ones. I'm going to have to write a book about all the insults I have to come up with if I stay with you."

"But you are staying with me, right?"

"What fucking choice do I have? It's not like I can release a total asshole like you into the wild and let you make someone else's life miserable," Romano grumbled.

"Yeah," Prussia said with a relieved laugh. On second thought, it wasn't so bad to lie on the pavement with Romano pinning him to the ground. For as long as he was there on top of him, things were probably going to be fine.

"But don't think for a moment that I'll just let you get off the hook. You'll get what's coming to you."

"And what's that?"

"I don't know yet, but you won't like it."

Well, that ruled out a lot of things that Romano usually did to him when he was angry, but Prussia knew better than to say that out loud. Right now he didn't want Romano to start yelling at again.

They probably would have stayed there on the ground for much longer, but that was when the sound of approaching steps reached their ears. Romano looked up, and the frown on his face deepened. Instantly, he climbed off Prussia and began to brush dirt off his suit.

"Sorry, Romano! Did we interrupt something?" Italy asked as he, Germany and Japan arrived.

"No!"

They got into the car. Italy took the front seat by Germany's side, leaving the remaining three nations to share the backseat. Prussia was sitting in the middle, which was usually his least favourite spot. It was now as well, but then he felt Romano's hand sneak closer and grab a hold of the sleeve of his shirt.

Prussia cast a questioning look at him, but Romano kept staring out the window and refused to acknowledge him. There was no way he would ever go further to admit that he wanted to hold his hand, especially when they weren't alone. It was such an adorable gesture. Prussia decided to reward him, so he undid his seatbelt and started climbing onto Romano's lap.

"What the fuck? Get off!"

"I'm just giving Japan here some personal space!"

"I'm fine. Do not worry about me."

"Prussia, fasten your seatbelt again! Now!"

"Aww, can't you let him sit on Romano's lap this one time? We're almost there anyway."

"It's against the law! If the police stop us –"

"Nobody will stop us, West! Just keep driving!"

In the end, Prussia had to get back to his seat and fasten his seatbelt once more because Germany drove to the parking lot of a Lidl and refused to keep going until he listened. But he took the damage back by leaning as closely against Romano as he could.

"Clingy bastard," Romano muttered and glared out the window, but he didn't shove him off. His face was the cutest shade of red.

* * *

That night, Prussia woke up in the middle of the night to the feeling of thirst. He blinked in the darkness and rubbed his eyes, trying to decide if having a drink was worth leaving the warm bed. In the end he decided that it was, and he tried to move as quietly as he could so that he wouldn't wake up Romano.

He tiptoed to the stairs and climbed up to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. He wasn't expecting anyone else to be there, so he had to look twice when he noticed Germany's frame in the light of a street lamp that stood outside their window.

"Did Ita-cakes kick you out of the bed or what?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"Why? Nightmares? Do you need me to come and tuck you in?"

There was no reply from Germany, so Prussia went to grab a glass. He decided that water wasn't good enough, so he moved to open the fridge to get some juice. He had to slit his eyes against the bright light, but he managed to catch a glimpse of Germany staring at him when he turned to ask if he wanted anything.

"What's up? You don't look too good," he said.

"Everything is fine. It's just that... Never mind. I should go back upstairs."

"Don't be like that. Something's bugging you if you're just hanging out in the kitchen in the middle of the night. What happened?"

"It's nothing."

Prussia took a seat by the kitchen table and sipped at his juice. "So, it was a nightmare, huh?" he said after a while.

"It doesn't matter."

"Yeah, right," Prussia said with a snort. "I learned how you deal with nightmares back when you could barely reach my waist. You can't lie to me. But I hope it wasn't about the monster under the bed again because you're a little too old for that one now."

There was a half-hearted chuckle from Germany. That was enough to tell Prussia that something really was bothering him. Normally, he would have told him to keep his nonsense to himself and be serious for a moment.

He took another gulp of the juice. He didn't really want to prod Germany into talking about whatever was on his mind. His brother could be just as stubborn as he was, and things would soon develop into an argument if he kept bugging him.

For a moment, it appeared as if Germany couldn't decide if he wanted to stay in the kitchen or return upstairs, but then he took a seat opposite Prussia. He crossed his hands on the table and stared at them.

"It was about you," he finally said.

"Me? But then it can't have been a nightmare! Don't worry. Sure, you're my brother and all, but it's perfectly natural to have dreams about me."

He chuckled at the chortled sound that came from Germany's throat.

"It... It wasn't that," Germany said through gritted teeth. "You weren't even in it. I woke up in my bed, and everything that happened today had been just a dream."

"Oh." Well, that was a little awkward. And here he'd been thinking that he'd get a great chance to tease his kid brother a little, but he didn't really have the heart to do it now, not after the whole funeral incident. "Well, it was just a stupid nightmare. Don't worry about it."

Germany rubbed at his eyes and sighed. "These past few weeks, I used to have dreams in which you hadn't died. Then I woke up and realised that you were gone after all. When I woke up tonight, I couldn't tell what had been a dream and what not."

"Hey, forget about dreams. Dreams suck. They aren't real," Prussia said. He paused to think. "Is that why you're in the kitchen in the middle of the night? Did you want to take a peek into the basement to see if I was really there?"

"It's so silly, isn't it?"

"Nah. I'd call you cute, but you're a little too tall and muscular for that."

"Can't you please take this seriously? I don't think there's anything funny about this."

"You're taking it seriously enough for the both of us. But okay, if you insist."

And then they sat in silence. Prussia kept lifting his glass to his lips even after it was empty so that it would look like he was occupied with something. He wasn't sure what to say. He guessed it was great that his brother cared so much about him that it messed up his sleep, but at the same time it brought back the guilt form earlier. And he hated feeling guilty. It ruined all the fun in life.

"I hope you aren't expecting me to say anything sappy right now," he said.

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Like that I'm your big brother and will always watch out for you, no matter what happens, or some crap like that. Because it would be awkward as hell to say it."

"No, you don't have to say that."

"Okay, good."

More uncomfortable silence followed.

"You know, I'm surprised you felt the need to check up on me. I'm sure you all heard what awesome sex I and Romano –"

"Please don't talk to me about that."

Prussia laughed. "I'm just saying that I bet you all know where I was tonight."

The sigh from his brother told him that he knew it with more clarity than he had ever wanted.

"I should get back to bed," Germany said and stood up.

"Nighty night. I'd invite you to mine like back in the old days after you'd had a nightmare, but I'm afraid the spot is taken."

"I think I can manage."

Prussia remained alone in the kitchen for a while longer, staring out the window. The day certainly hadn't turned out the way he had expected. It had been reassuring to know that he was important to so many people, but he was beginning to wonder when was the last time he had done anything to deserve it.

Maybe he should be a little nicer to France and Spain. He could help Germany out more. He could try to go at least a few days in a row without pissing off Hungary. And maybe he should leave Austria in peace and – fuck, who was he kidding? That piano was getting a new coat of paint as soon as he had the time to drop by for a visit. But he'd pick something that was easily washed off this time, just as a thank-you for the nice eulogy.

Yeah, that was a great idea. He figured that as awesome as he was, the others could never have enough reasons to miss him in case something happened, so he might just as well start giving them a few more. It wouldn't do if anyone forgot how amazing he was.

That thought gave him some of the determination that he had been lacking recently. He was humming quietly to himself as he returned to the basement and crawled back under the covers, careful not to wake up Romano.

As usual, Romano had taken over the bed and lay sprawled on it with his limbs pointing everywhere. Prussia tried to find a position that wouldn't require moving Romano's legs on his side of the bed. It didn't quite work, and he got a kick as a reward.

"You're so lucky I decided to be a little nicer from now on, or I'd be kicking you right back," he muttered as he finally settled down.

Romano mumbled something in his sleep, but Prussia couldn't even begin to understand it. Then he felt him lean closer until his head was resting against Prussia's side. Romano's arm flew over him, and he soon had Prussia trapped between himself and the bed.

"Yeah, yeah," Prussia said with a content sigh. "I'm right here."


End file.
